^ 


NEW  ENGLAND  HISTORIC  GENEALOGICAL  SOCIETY, 
F.  M.  BARTLETT  COLLECTION, 

Received  April  21,  1886. 


Mr.  Francis  Merrill  Bartlett,  of  Cambridge,  Mass., 
was  born  at  Boston,  Mass.,  July  6,  1822,  and  died  at  Cam- 
bridge, Dec.  21,  1885,  aged  63.  He  was  from  his  youth  a 
lover  of  books.  His  tastes  were  for  family  and  local  history, 
for  biography  and  general  literature.  He  collected  a  select 
library  of  over  fifteen  hundred  volumes,  of  which  this  volume 
is  one.  By  his  will,  dated  Januarys  1882,  he  bequeathed  his 
entire  library  to  this  Society,  as  a  token  of  his  appreciation 
of  its  usefulness,  and  as  an  aid  to  the  pursuits  in  which  he 
took  so  much  interest  and  in  which  the  Society  is  engaged. 


THE 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 


BY  HENRY  KETT, 

1ELL0W    OE    TRINITY  COLLEGE    OXFORD 


TWO    VOLUMES    IN  ONE. 


HARTFORD 


PUBLISHED    BY    OLIVER    D.    COOKE    &   CO, 


INTRODUCTION. 


TO  profess  to  give  a  faultless  definition  of 
Wit  would  be  highly  presumptuous,  after  some 
writers  of  eminence  have  failed  in  the  attempt, 
and  oth^Bhave  declined  the  task.  It  is  far 
more  eal^as  well  as  more  pleasing,  to  aim  at 
a  description  of  the  most  striking  modes,  in  which 
men  of  wit  display  their  talents,  although,  con- 
sidered in  all  their  exertions,  they  may  be  said 
to  vary  their  forms  like  Proteus  of  old,  and 
change  their  colours  like  the  chameleon. 

Wit  may  be  considered  as  much  the  same 
talent  as  genius.  Or  it  may  be  said  to  be  that 
species  of  genius,  which  displays  itself,  not  in 
long  and  deliberate  compositions,  such  as  epic 
poetry  and  tragedy,  but  in  the  short  and  rapid 
sallies  of  conversation. 

Men  of  wit  make  quick  associations  of  the 
most  distant  ideas,  and  are  happy  in  the  com- 
munication of  them  in  clear,  energetic,  and 
pointed  language.  They  surprise  by  the  novel- 
ty of  their  thoughts,  and  please  by  the  various 
turns  thev  give  to  the. m.  When  thev  make  their 
1 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

humblest  efforts  they  play  upon  the  different 
meanings  of  words  :  when  they  take  a  flight 
more  worthy  of  their  talents,  they  elicit  a  noble 
sentiment  or  striking  image,  from  a  common 
observation,  occurrence,  or  maxim :  thus  they 
discover  and  communicate  unexpected,  yet  just 
analogies  of  things,  and  they  show  the  most  ex- 
tensive exercise  of  their  powers,  by  a  ready 
command  over  the  most  brilliant  figures  of  rhet- 
oric : — they  illustrate  their  ideas  by  a  simile, 
adorn  them  with  the  colours  of  a  metaphor,  or 
elevate  them  by  an  hyperbole. 

These  characteristics  appear  to  be  common 
to  all  men  of  wit :  but  he  whose  wit  is  tempered 
with  judgment,  and  refined  by  beneflknce  and 
decorum,  directs  it  against  proper  ob^Rs  alone. 
When  he  indulges  in  the  frolic  of  ridicule,  or  the 
asperity  of  satire,  his  delight  is  to  make  folly 
contemptible,  and  vice  odious.  He  dirTers, 
therefore,  as  widely  as  possible  in  the  application 
of  his  talents,  from  the  authors  of  those  perni- 
cious works  of  various  kinds,  which,  to  the  dis- 
grace of  our  English  literature,  are  frequently 
issued  from  the  press ;  and  which,  to  the  no  less 
disgrace  of  English  curiosity,  meet  with  too  wel- 
come and  too  general  a  perusal.  He  never 
lurks  in  ambush  to  throw  the  poisoned  dart  at 
the  innocent  and  unoffending ;  never  assails  pub- 
lic or  private  characters  with  unmerited  satire  ; 
nor  does  he  take  pleasure  to  increase  the  discon- 
tent and  inflame  the  passions  of  the  vulgar. — 
He  does  not  play  the  part  of  the  buffoon,  the 
democrat,  or  the  scoffing  infidel,  to  gratify  the 


INTRODUCTION.  VH 

malevolence  and  excite  the  laughter  of  the  licen- 
tious, the  lawless,  and  the  profane. 

The  bon  mots,  or  colloquial  sallies  of  such 
men  of  wit  as  have  been  described,  vary  accord- 
ing to  different  occasions :  some  are  solid  as  well 
as  bright ;  some  are  sharp,  but  not  rough ;  some 
are  keen,  but  not  malignant ;  some  are  humour- 
ous, without  vulgarity  ;  and  all  are  pointed, 
without  asperity.  They  are  calculated  to  ex- 
cite, not  the  merriment  of  the  multitude,  but  the 
surprise,  admiration,  and  pleasure  of  the  refined 
part  of  society.  They  ought  not  to  be  fleeting 
and  transient,  as  the  sounds  that  originally  con- 
veyed them  to  the  ear ;  they  ought  not  to  be  re- 
garded a^ire-works,  which  attract  notice  by 
their  brilfflmcy,  and  afford  no  more  than  a  mo- 
mentary pleasure.  They  deserve,  on  the  con- 
trary, to  be  considered  as  diamonds,  that  are 
solid  and  durable  as  well  as  brilliant ;  and,  like 
diamonds,  they  ought  to  be  preserved  with  care, 
and  displayed  to  advantage ;  that  they  may  give 
pleasure  to  mankind  through  successive  ages, 
and  may  perpetuate  some  degree  at  least  of  that 
admiration  which  was  expressed  by  those  who 
had  the  pleasure  to  hear  them  first  pronounced. 
By  the  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans  the 
branches  of  knowledge  which  give  the  moderns 
so  many  advantages  were  comparatively  little 
cultivated,and  of  course  there  was  not  such  scope 
for  the  extensive  range  of  the  imagination  over 
so  many  subjects  as  are  familiar  to  the  moderns. 
But  if  the  current  of  the  thoughts  of  the  ancients 
was  comparatively  narrow,  it  was  clear,  deep 


Vlll  INTRODUCTIONS 

and  rapid  ;  what  they  wanted  in  variety,  they 
made  up  by  energy ;  their  sallies  in  conversation 
were  like  their  onsets  in  battle,  prompt,  ardent, 
and  effectual  at  once  to  settle  the  point.  To 
them  belonged  "  thoughts  that  breathe,  and 
words  that  burn,"  the  "  acer  spiritus,  ac  vis," 
the  energy  divine  of  the  soul :  their  apothegms 
were  the  maxims  of  heroes  and  philosophers, 
and  they  contain  the  essence  of  wisdom  and  of 
greatness  of  mind. 

The  Spartans  were  famed  for  the  caustic  spir- 
it, the  keenness,  and  the  conciseness  of  their 
speeches.  But  a  style  approaching  the  laconic, 
has  in  all  ages,  and  in  all  countries,  marked  the 
conversation  of  acute  and  profound  takers. 

The  apothegms  or  bon  mots  of  tire  ancients 
and  moderns  possess  different  kinds  of  excel- 
lence, and  are  found  to  be  adapted  to  the  differ- 
ent states  of  civilization,  refinement,  and  taste. 
The  ancients  addressed  the  judgment,  the  mod- 
erns appeal  more  to  the  imagination :  the  former 
spoke  with  a  view  to  action,  the  latter  to  pro- 
duce surprise :  the  aim  of  the  former  was  to  ap- 
pear, and  to  be,  heroic  and  noble ;  that  of  the 
latter,  to  gain  the  character  of  being  agreeable, 
and  to  raise  a  laugh :  the  former  were  more  sen- 
tentious, grave,  and  deep ;  the  latter  are  more 
facetious,  gay,  and  superficial  : — and  yet,  in 
justice  to  both  ancients  and  moderns,  this  con- 
trast should  be  closed  with  a  concession  honour- 
able to  both  parties  ;  for  in  the  works  of  the  an- 
cients maybe  found  many  striking  sallies  of  wit, 
and  among  the  moderns  many  profound  maxims 


INTRODUCTION.  IX 

qf  wisdom.     Instances  not  a  few  to  confirm  this 
observation  will  occur  in  the  following  pages. 

Professor  Porson  has  been  heard  to  say,  and 
his  remark  will  be  found  upon  examination  to 
be  perfectly  just.  "  that  many  of  the  most  admir- 
ed jokes,  in  our  popular  jest-books,  may  be  found 
in  the  works  of  Athenseus,  Plularch,  and  other 
ancient  writers."  Tt  is  not,  however,  easy  to 
trace  the  origin  of  a  bon-mot,  with  certainty ; 
and  many  an  one,  like  an  illegitimate  child,  may 
be  attributed  to  a  wrong  father.  It  is  highly 
probable  that  similar  situations  may  have  pro- 
duced similar  thoughts  in  minds  of  equal  capa- 
city and  strength ;  and  the  authors  of  them,  al- 
though ra»ote  from  each  other,  both  with  respect 
to  time  a^vvell  as  place,  may  have  been  equally 
original  in  the  conception  of  similar  thoughts. 
Cases,  however,  differ  very  materially  with  re- 
spect to  the  probabilities  of  originality.  When 
Hans  de  Veil,  a  Cambridge  scholar,  wrrote  his 
epigram  on  the  age  of  Miss  Fowle,  he  might 
possibly  recollect  the  keen  remark  of  Cicero 
upon  a  similar  occasion  ;  but  it  is  ridiculous  to 
suppose,  that  John,  the  great  duke  of  Marlbo- 
rough, wrho  was  singularly  illiterate,  quoted  the 
admirable  repartee  of  Ariston,  the  Spartan  king, 
to  his  Athenian  captives,  when  he  made  a  no 
less  admirable  reply  to  his  prisoner  marshal 
Tallard.* 

The  interest  which  such  a  compilation  as  the 
following  is  capable  of  exciting,  it  is  presumed, 

♦See  vol.  i.  No.  400, 
1* 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

may  be  heightened  by  authenticating  as  many 
bon  mots  as  possible,  by  referring  them  to  their 
original  speakers.  For  surely  the  case  is  much 
the  same  with  respect  to  wit,  as  it  is  with  respect 
to  painting : — we  may  be  pleased  with  a  good 
portrait,  because  it  is  well  executed  ;  we  are 
better  pleased,  when  we  are  told  it  was  painted 
by  some  distinguished  artist ;  and  we  are  most 
gratified  of  all  when  we  are  certain  it  is  the  like- 
ness of  some  eminent  person. 

Still,  however,  sallies  of  wit  that  are  anony- 
mous may  have  very  strong  claims  to  our  notice 
and  approbation.  They  may  be  considered  as 
so  many  foundlings  thrown  upon  the  world  : 
their  origin  is  obscure;  their  parentjtffcre  unas- 
certained, though  they  may  have  no  cause  to 
be  ashamed  of  them ;  and  they  deserve  to  be 
admitted  and  reared  in  a  safe  and  lasting  asy- 
lum, that  they  may  survive  for  the  benefit  and 
ornament  of  the  public  at  large. 

Forthese  reasons  the  following  work  is  divided 
into  two  parts. 

The  first  part  contains  Bon  Mots,  the  authors  of 
ivhich  are  ascertained,  placed  under  the  names  of 
their  respective  authors. 

The  second  part  contains  Bon  Mots  that  are 
chiefly  anonymous. 

These  parts  are  added  an  Appendix,  contain- 
ing Remarks  oiifPwming  and  Select  Puns,  &c.il- 
lustrative,  like  the  preceding  articles,  of  national  a 
and  individual  characters. 
Indulgence  is  requested  for  some  articles  in  this 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

work,  because  they  are  stated  from  recollection* 
It  is  hoped  they  will  not  be  found  to  be  so  much  al- 
tered for  the  worse,  that,  like  the  children  kid- 
i  napped  by  gypsies,  their  parents  would  not  easily 
know  them  again.  Some,  it  is  presumed,  are 
original,  and  were  never  published  before :  others 
have  been  taken  from  scarce  works,  particularly 
from  old  and  curious  collections  in  the  British  Mu- 
seum; and  a  few  translated  from  the  Greek,  La  in 
and  French  languages,  appear  in  an  English  dress 
probably  for  the ^rs^  time. 

Some  indeed  have  been  taken  from  common 
jest-books ;  but  it  would  have  been  perfectly  in- 
consistent with  the  plan  and  complexion  of  this 
work,  nqji*  to  have  carefully  separated  these 
Flowers  of  Wit,  from  the  noxious  plants  with 
which  they  were  associated.  And  if  a  few  of  these 
bon  mots  so  selected  be  well  known,  they  possess 
such  acknowledged  excellence,  that  the  com- 
piler would  be  justly  censured,  were  he  to  de- 
prive his  readers  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them 
inserted  in    a  work  of  this  kind. 

The  reader  must  not  be  disappointed  on  find- 
ing few  specimens  of  the  wit  of  our  contem- 
poraries introduced  into  the  following  collec- 
tion :  not  but  that  the  compiler  is  fully  aware  of 
the  important  addition,  both  in  point  of  number 
and  excellence,  that  might  have  been  made,  if 
he  had  inserted  the  bon  mots  ofeminent  living 
persons.  But  he  thinks,  as  a  matter  of  delica- 
cy, that  such  a  display  should  be  reserved  for 
the  period,  when  prejudice  shall  have  subsided, 
when  praise  may  be  bestowed  without  the  alloy 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 

of  detraction  and  envy,  and  the  public  curiosity 
may  be  gratified  without  the  risk  of  giving  of- 
fence to  individuals.  He  has  always  regarded, 
with  no  small  degree  of  admiration,  the  custom 
of  the  antients,  "  to  defer  their  sacrifices  to  he- 
roes till  after  sunset." 

In  such  a  collection  as  this,  it  cannot  be  rea- 
sonably expected  that  all  bon  mots  that  are  val- 
uable and  excellent  are  to  be  found.  The  rea- 
der must  make  allowance  for  the  peculiar  taste, 
and  perhaps  the  contracted  views  of  the  collect- 
or. In  passing  through  a  spacious  garden,  al- 
though with  the  express  intention  of  forming  a 
nosegay,  many  flowers  of  equal  beauty  to  those 
that  are  gathered  may  be  passed  by;nr.!vy  a 
rose,  carnation,  or  hyacinth,  may  be  reft  behind, 
and  be  reserved  for  the  more  observant  eye  and 
the  more  delicate  fancy  of  a  succeeding  florist. 

Yet  if  this  collection  be  not  thought  complete, 
it  is  presumed  there  can  be  no  reasonable  com- 
plaint of  its  want  of  variety*  In  the  following 
pages  will  be  found  instances  of  profound  saga- 
city, determined  courage,  keen  satire,  refined 
praise,  and  insight  into  characters,  the  sublime 
sentiments  of  wisdom,  and  the  beautiful  illus- 
trations of  fancy : 

*'  As  at  the  feast  with  plenteous  dainties  grac'd, 
Dish  after  dish  excites  the  roving  taste  ; 
So  while  my  muse  repeats  her  varied  strains, 
Tale  following   tale  the   ravish'd  ear  detains." 

If  an  apology  for  such  a  literary  pursuit  as 

*  Altered  from  Hoole's  Ariosto. 


INTRODUCTION.  Xlll 

this  should  be  thougt  proper,  to  soften  the  as- 
perity of  certain  fastidious  critics,  an  apology 
may  easily  be  urged.  The  compiler  of  this 
work,  from  its  desultory  and  entertaining  na- 
ture, found  it  calculated  to  employ  and  amuse 
the  hours  of  frequent  indisposition;  and  when 
he  enjoyed  abetter  state  of  health  it  served  as  a 
relaxation  from  his  more  arduous  and  impor- 
tant studies,  the  results  of  which  are  laid  before 
the  public.  Considered  in  this  latter  point  of 
view,  such  a  literary  pursuit  has  the  sanction 
of  the  most  respectable  examples.  Julius 
Cjesar  did  not  think  it  derogatory  to  his  talents, 
his  rank,  and  his  exalted  offices,  to  make  a  col- 
lection of  apothegms.  Did  not  Tacitus  the 
philosophical  historian,  Plutarch  one  of  the 
best  moral  writers  of  antiquity,  and  Valerius 
Maximus  a  Roman  of  an  illustrious  family  and 
high  military  distinction,  compose  similar 
works  ?  And  in  later  times,  have  not  Erasmus 
the  great  critic  and  theologian,  Camden  the  most 
antient  antiquary,  and  Lord  Bacon  the  prince 
of  modern  philosophers,  diverified  their  studies 
and  added  to  their  reputation  by  making  such 
collections  ? 

.  Can  it  be  thought  absurd  or  culpable,  that  a 
student  wearied  by  the  labour  of  instructing 
others,  and  wishing  to  relax  from  the  severity  of 
professional  pursuits,  should  seek  for  occasional 
repose  of  mind  in  biography  and  miscellaneous 
reading  ?  Suppose  it  has  been  his  delight,  while 
resident  upon  the  classic  banks  of  the  Isis, 
occasionally  to  retire  into  the  yew-mantled  gar- 
den  once    trodden  by   Harrington,    Somers, 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

Chatham,  Warton,  Headley,  and  Bowles  ; 
and  as  he  strayed  amid  its  mazy  walks,  indul- 
ged the  pleasures  of  imagination  so  far  as  to  re- 
alize the  poetic  dream  of  Horace: 

"Hark  i  Joes  Phrensy's  sweet  control 
With  :nagic  charms  transport  my  soui 
I  seem  to  hear,  and  to  behold, 
The  sages  and  the  bards  of  old  : 
And  as  in  social  bliss  they  move 
Through  Elysium's  happy   grove, 
The  balmy  zephyrs  constant  play, 
And  streams  perennial  round  them  play.1'* 

Awaking  from  his  reverie,  he  is  anxious  to  com- 
municate the  impressions  to  others,that  they  may 
feel  the  same  enthusiasm  and  enjoy  the  same 
pleasure. 

The  following  pages  are  designed  to  beguile  a 
lonely,  or  occupy  an  idle  hour.  They  are  intend- 
ed to  convey  some  ideas  of  the  wisdom  that  has 
ennobled  conversation,  and  the  wit  that  has  enli- 
vened it.  They  may  amuse  the  gay,  and  exhila- 
rate the  grave.  The)'  admit  all  who  have  a  relish 
for  such  an  elegant  enjoyment  into  the  company 
of  many  of  the  most  illustrious  characters  that 
adorn  the  annals  of  biography. 

Here  both  the  antients  and  the  moderns  unity 
to  contribute  to  their  entertainment.     Here  they 

*  Auditis?  an  me  luditamibilia 
InsaniaPaudire  et  videor  pios 
Errare  per  lucos,  amoenae 
Muos,  et  agu;e  subeunt  et  aurar. 

HwR   Carm,  Lib.  iii.  4. 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

may  derive  the  mingled  gratifications  of  instruc- 
tion and  pleasure  from  the  philosophers  and  the  he- 
roes, the  scholars  and  the  politicians,  the  sover- 
eings  and  the  courtiers  of  the  most  enlightened 
countries  of  the  world.  And  here  they  may  find 
frequent  occasions  to  remark,  that  many  of  those 
who  shine  most  conspicuous  in  the  annals  of  his- 
tory, such  as  Leonidas,  Alexander  the  Great, 
Henry  IV.  of  France,  and  the  Czar  Peter,  were 
as  remarkable  for  sa}~ing  good  things  as  for 
doing  great  ones. 

Such  a  work  as  this,  although  it  cannot  aspire 
to  dignity,  or  challenge  praise,  yet,  if  properly  ex- 
ecuted, is  calculated  not  merely  for  momentary 
amusement,  but  to  do  a  permanent  and  impor- 
tant service  to  the  cause  of  morality.  While  it 
constitutes  a  miscellany  of  various  exertions  of 
facetiousness,  it  exhibits  sentiments  of  wisdom 
and  virtue,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  most  em- 
inent characters ;  and  it  communicates  these 
particulars  in  a  mode  the  most  pleasant,  because 
it  is  short  and  lively.  The  choice  speeches  of 
those  who  have  rendered  themselves  illustrious 
by  their  talents,  may  kindle  a  sympathetic  ar- 
dour, impart  the  electric  spark  of  virtue  from 
mind  to  mind,  make  us  glow  with  generous 
approbation  of  whatever  is    fair   and  good,  and 

PROMPT  US  TO  ENDEAVOUR  TO  EMULATE  THE  EXAM- 
PLES WE    ADMIRE. 


THE 

FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 


PART  X. 


Bon  Mots  referred  to  their  Authors,  and  the  Names  of 
those  Authors  alphabetically  arranged. 


JOSEPH  ABOU. 

1.  Candour  is  the  companion  of  true  wisdom  and 
solid  learning. — Joseph  Abou,  an  Arabian  doctor  of 
great  reputed  attainments  in  science,  being  asked  to 
solve  a  difficult  problem,  very  frankly  confessed  his 
total  ignorance  of  the  subject.  "  How  is  this  ?"  said 
the  proposer  of  the  problem  ;  "  does  not  the  caliph 
pay  you  for  your  know  ledge  ?"  "  Certainly,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  he  pays  me  for  my  knowledge  ;  for  all  his 
treasures,  great  as  they  are,  would  not  be  sufficient  to 
pay  me  for  my  ignorance." 

ADDISON. 

This  sublime  moralist,  elegant  critic,  and  humorous 
describer  of  men  and  manners,  whose  works  furnish 
instruction  to  vouth,  amusement  to  age3  and  delight  t<>< 

2 


18  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

all  who  peruse  them,  was  remarkable  for  his  taciturni- 
ty. 

2.  Conscious  of  his  talents  as  a  writer,  he  acknow- 
ledged his  deficiency  in  conversation.  "  I  can  draw," 
said  he,  "  a  bill  for  a  thousand  pounds,  although  1  have 
not  a  guinea  in  my  pocket." 

3.  He  very  humorously  compared  physicians  to  an 
army  of  ancient  Britons,  as  described  by  Julius  Caesar. 
He  says  of  them,  "  Some  slay  on  foot,  and  some  in 
chariots.  If  the  infantry  do  not  so  much  execution  as 
the  cavalry,  it  is  because  they  cannot  convey  them- 
selves with  so  much  velocity  into  all  quarters,  nor  des- 
patch their  business  in  so  short  a  time." 

4.  Mr.  Temple  Stanyan  borrowed  a  s.um  of  money 
of  Addison,  with  whom  he  lived  in  habits  of  friendship, 
conversing  on  all  subjects  with  equal  freedom  ;  but 
from  this  time  Mr.  Stanyan  agreed  implicitly  to  every 
thing  Addison  advanced,  and  never  as  formerly,  disput- 
ed his  positions.  This  change  of  behaviour  did  not 
long  escape  the  notice  of  so  acute  an  observer,  to  whom 
it  was  by  no  mean3  agreeable.  It  happened  one  day, 
that  a  subject  was  started,  on  which  they  had  before 
warmly  controverted  each  other's  notions,  but  now  Mr. 
Stanyan  entirely  acquiesced  in  Addison's  opinion, 
without  offering  one  word  in  defence  of  his  own.  Ad- 
dison was  displeased,  and  said,  with  considerable  emo- 
tion, {  Sir,  either  contradict  me,  or  pay  me  my  mo- 
ney.' 

5.  A  poetaster  brought  Addison  one  of  his  composi- 
tions, and  begged  his  opinion  of  it.  It  was  a  copy  of 
very  indifferent  verses,  and  they  appeared  the  worse, 
because  he  had  prefixed  to  them  several  lines  from  Ho- 
mer, and  thus  exposed  them  to  a  very  disadvantageous 
contrast.  Addison  with  great  warmth  struck  out  the 
lines  from  Homer  ;  and  when  the  surprised  poetaster 
asked  the  reason  :    '  Do  you  not  recollect,'  said  Addi 


V LOWERS    OF    WIT.  1.9 

gon,  '  the  Roman  emperor,  whose  statues  appeared  to 
him  very  ridiculous  when  they  were  placed  near  those 
of  the  gods  ?' 

6.  On  Lady  Manchester  at  Paris. 


While  haughty  Gallia's  dames,  that  spread 
O'er  their  pale  cheeks  an  artful  red, 
Beheld  this  beauteous  stranger  there, 
In  native  charms  divinely  fair, 
Confusion  in  their  looks  they  show'd, 
And  with  unborrow'd  blushes  glovvM. 

GUSTAVUS  ADOLPHUS. 

7.  In  less  than  a  year  he  overran  the  greatest  part  of 
Germany,  and  surmounted  every  obstacle  opposed  to 
his  arms.  When  he  was  besieging  Ingolstadt,  his  horse 
was  killed  under  him  by  a  cannon  ball.  To  an  officer 
who  ran  to  remount  him,  he  coolly  said,  *  I  have  had 
a  narrow  escape — but  perhaps  the  pear  is  not  yet  ripe.' 

8.  Upon  a  similar  occasion,  his  chancellor  entreated 
him  not  to  risk  his  life  so  often.  Gustavus  said  to  him 
with  warmth,  w  You  are  always  too  cold  ;  and  you  stop 
my  progress.'  '  True,  sire,'  said  the  chancellor,  k  I 
confess  I  am  cold  ;  but  if  1  did  not  sometimes  throw  a 
little  of  my  ice  into  your  fire,  you  would  be  burnt  to 
ashes.' 

9.  Sir  Henry  Vane,  who  was  suspected  to  have  been 
bribed  by  the  court  of  Madrid,  pressed  Gustavus  in  a 
vehement  manner  to  adopt  certain  measures.  To  get 
rid  of  his  importunity,  he  said  to  Sir  Henry,  *  Sir,  1  da 
not  understand  your  language,  you  talk  Spanish.' 

AGESILAUS. 

This  renowned  king  of  Sparta  did  honour  to  the 
rigid  institutions  of  his  country.    Mean  in  person,  but 


20  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

exilted  in  mind,  he  was  successful  in  his  public  con- 
duct, and  amiable  in  private  life. 

10.  When  Agesilaus  heard  any  persons  praised  or 
censured,  he  remarked,  that  it  was  as  necessary  to 
know  the  characters  of  the  speakers,  as  the  characters 
of  those  who  were  the  subjects  of  their  opinions. 

11.  A  friend  asked  him,  how  true  glory  was  to  be 
acquired.    He  answered,  "  By  contempt  of  death." 

12.  When  he  was  asked,  if  he  was  desirous  to  hear 
a  man  famous  for  imitating  the  notes  of  the  nightingale, 
he  declined  the  offer,  saying,  "i  have  heard  the  night- 
ingale herself." 


13.  He  was  asked,  "  What  ought  children  to  be 
taught  ?"  His  answer  was,  "  they  ought  to  learn  that 
which  it  will  be  proper  for  them  to  practise  when  they 
reach  mature  age." 

What  is  this,  but  the  most  concise  and  the  most  ex- 
cellent description  that  ever  was  given  of  a  right  edu- 
cation ? 

14.  To  a  person  applauding  the  happiness  of  the 
Persian  king,  who  was  very  young,  he  said,  "  Priam 
was  happy  at  his  age." 

15.  Being  once  asked  which  virtue  was  superior, 
Fortitude  or  Justice  :  he  answered,  "  Were  all  men 
Just,  there  would  be  no  occasion  for  Fortitude." 

16.  M  Inform  me,"  said  a  friend  to  him,  "  of  the 
means  to  establish  a  high  reputation."  His  answer 
was,  "  Speak  well,  and  act  better." 

ALEXANDER  THE  GREAT. 

No  hero  makes  so  distinguished  a  figure  in  ancient 
history  as  Alexander  the  Great.     His  courage  was  u»- 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  21 

daunted,  his  ambition  boundless,  his  friendship  ardent, 
ibis  taste  refined  ;  and,  what  is  very  extraordinary,  he 
appears  to  have  conversed  with  the  same  fire  and  spir- 
it with  which  he  fought. 

17.  Philip,  his  father,  knowing  him  to  be  very  swift, 
wished  him  to  run  for  the  prize  at  the  Olympic  Games. 
"  1  would  comply  with  your  request,"  said  Alexander, 
"  if  kings  were  to  be  my  competitors." 

18.  When  Alexander  made  a  libation  to  the  heroes 
%vho  fought  in  the  Trojan  war,  he  placed  a  crown  of 
gold  upon  the  tomb  of  Achilles  ;  saying,  that  Achilles 
"was  the  most  fortunate  man  in  the  world  ;  for  while  he 
lived,  Patroclus  was  his  friend  ;  and  when  dead,  Ho- 
mer perpetuated  his  memory. 

19.  Alexander  went  to  Delphi  to  consult  the  oracle 
there,  wishing  to  know  what  success  was  likely  to  at- 
tend the  projects  of  his  vast  ambition.  The  priestess 
pretended  that  it  was  not  lawful  for  him  to  consult  her 
at  that  time,  and  refused  to  enter  the  temple.  Alex- 
ander, impetuous  and  impatient,  seized  her  by  the 
arm  ;  and  as  he  led  her  in  by  force,  she  cried,  "  Ah 
my  son,  no  one  can  resist  you."  "  I  want  no  more," 
exclaimed  Alexander,  wi  this  oracle  is  sufficient." 

20.  When  he  passed  into  Asia  to  attack  Darius,  he 
made  rich  presents  to  his  general  officers,  insomuch 
that  Parmenio  asked  him,  "  Sir,  what  do  you  keep  for 
yourself?"  His  reply  was,  "  hope." 

21.  After  the  battle  of  Issus,  the  complete  rout  of  the 
Persian  army  put  Alexander  in  possession  of  the  camp 
<f  Darius,  in  which  were  his  mother,  wife,  and  children. 
A  rumour  had  been  spread  that  Darius  was  slain,  and 
this  threw  all  the  captive  royal  family  into  the  deepest 
affliction.  Alexander,  anxious  to  inform  them  that  this 
report  was  false,  and  wishing  to  give  them  comfort, 
paid  them  a  visit.  As  he  entered  the  tent  of  Darius, 
HephccUion,  his  most  intimate  friend  who  was  very 


22  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

handsome,  and  rather  taller  than  Alexander,  was  close! 
by  his  side.  As  soon  as  they  approached,  the  queen-* 
mother,  who  had  fallen  prostrate,  raised  up  her  head,, 
and  addressed  herself  to  Hephaestion,  supposing  him  tot 
be  Alexander.  The  attendants  telling  her  of  her  mis-» 
take,  she  was  much  embarrassed,  and  began  to  makei 
many  apologies.  Alexander  allowed  her  not  to  pro- 
ceed, but  raised  her  up,  and  in  the  most  gracious  man- 
ner said.  "  It  is  of  no  importance,  madam,  for  he  too* 
is  Alexander." 

Which  of  the  two  (says  Valerius  Maximus,  from 
whose  work  this  anecdote  is  taken)  should  we  first  con- 
gratulate ;  him  who  had  the  disposition  to  make  such  a 
speech,  or  him  who  had  the  felicity  to  hear  it  spoken 
of  himself  ? 

22.  When  he  was  dying,  his  attendants  asked  him 
where  his  treasures  were  deposited.  His  answer  was, 
!t  In  the  hands  of  my  friends." 

ALFRED  THE  GREAT. 

The  most  humane,  as  well  as  the  most  intrepid  of 
monarchs.  Such  were  his  genius  and  his  attainments,, 
that,  had  he  not  been  a  sovereign,  he  would  have  been*, 
justly  celebrated  as  a  grammarian,  a  rhetorician,  a 
philosopher,  a  musician,  and  an  architect. 

23.  Harassed  by  the  invasions  of  the  barbarouj 
Danes,  he  found  a  place  of  refuge  in  the  isle  of  Athel- 
ney,  in  Somersetshire,  and  there  he  was  reduced  to 
great  extremities.  A  pilgrim  found  him  out,  and  re- 
quested alms.  The  queen  informed  Alfred  that  they 
had  only  one  small  loaf  remaining,  which  was  insuffi- 
cient for  themselves  and  the  friends  who  were  gone  in 
quest  of  fish  and  other  necessaries,  though  with  small 
hopes  of  success.  "  Give  the  poor  man  one  half  oi 
the  loaf,"  said  the  king  :  "  he  that  could  feed  fve 
thousand  men  with  five  loaves  and  two  fishes,  can  cer- 
tainly make  the  remaining  half  of  the  loaf  more  than 
sufficient  for  our  necessities." 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  23 

The  pilgrim  was  relieved  ;  and  the  king's  friends 
returned  soon  after,  with  an  unexpectedly  ample  sup- 
ply of  provisions. 

AMBASSADORS. 

25.  An  Italian  prince,  remarkable  for  pride  and  ill- 
humour,  once  walking-  to  the  window  of  his  presence- 
chamber  with  a  foreign  ambassador,  said  to  him,  "  Do 
you  know,  sir,  that  one  of  my  ancestors  forced  a  person 
of  your  description  from  this  balcony  into  the  street  ?" 
**  It  might  be  so,"  was  the  reply,  "  but  probably  it 
was  not  the  fashion  then,  as  it  is  now,  for  ambassadors 
to  wear  swords." 

25.  A  noble  lord  took  leave  of  Louis  XIV.  just  be- 
fore he  went  as  ambassador  to  a  foreign  court.  "  The 
most  material  injunction  I  lay  upon  you,"  said  the  king, 
"  is,  that  you  pursue  a  line  of  conduct  directly  oppo- 
site to  that  of  your  predecessor."  "  Sure,"  replied 
the  noble  lord,  "  you  may  depend  upon  my  acting  in 
such  a  manner,  as  to  make  it  perfectly  unnecessary  to 
give  the  same  instructions  to  my  successor." 

26.  A  Spanish  ambassador  boasted  of  the  great  mili- 
tary power  of  his  master,  to  Henry  IV.  of  France. — 
The  king,  thinking  to  put  to  the  haughty  Don  to  si- 
lence, said,  with  his  usual  vivacity,  "  Great  as  you 
may  think  your  master's  power  to  stop  the  progress  of 
my  arms,  if  the  whim  should  take  me,  I  will  breakfast 
at  Milan,  hear  mass  at  Rome,  and  dine  at  Naples." 
"Sir,"  replied  the  ambassador  with  a  significant  sneer, 
™  if  you  can  travel  so  fast,  you  may  chance  to  finish  the 
day  by  hearing  vespers  in  Sicily  ?" 

FATHER  AMBROSE. 

27.  He  was  a  pious  and  learned  Capuchin.  He  was 
conscious  of  his  excessive  self-love,  his  excessive  deli- 
cacy, and  his  excessive  desire  of  fame.    An  adherrence 


24  FLOWERS    OF    \V1T. 

to  the  precepts  of  Christianity  cured  him  of  all  these 
faults.  To  his  natural  pride  he  opposed  the  humility 
of  the  Gospel.  "  It  is  self-love,"  said  he,  "  that  cor- 
rupts our  virtues  and  destroys  our  happiness.  Of  a 
hundred  things  that  wound  us  in  our  intercourse  with 
society,  ninety-nine  were  never  meant  to  give  offence. 
But  pride  puts  the  worst  construction  upon  the  conduct 
of  others.  Let  it  take  all  things  as  it  will,  I  am  deter- 
mined to  suffer  all.  Should  my  enemy  even  spit  in  my 
face,  have  I  not  a  handkerchief  to  wipe  it  ?" 

ANACHARSIS. 

The  Athenians  presented  the  freedom  of  their  city 
to  this  sagacious  and  enlightened  Scythian,  the  only 
honour  of  the  kind  ever  conferred  upon  a  foreigner. 
He  deserved  the  compliment  ;  for  he  was  so  great  an 
admirer  of  the  laws  and  arts  of  Greece,  that  he  en- 
deavoured to  introduce  them  into  his  own  country  ; 
this  rash  attempt,  however,  cost  him  his  life. 

28.  He  said,  "  The  vine  produces  three  sorts  of 
grapes  :  the  first,  of  pleasure  ;  the  second,  of  intoxi- 
cation ;  and  the  third,  of  repentance." 

29.  "  The  sight  of  a  man  intoxicated,  gives  the  best 
lesson  of  sobriet}*." 

30.  "  Laws  are  like  spiders'  webs,  which  entangle 
flies,  but  cannot  retain  larger  creatures." 

31.  A  coxcomb,  who  had  nothing  else  to  boast  but 
his  being  a  native  of  Greece,  viewing  Anacharsis  with 
eyes  of  contempt,  reproached  him  with  the  barba- 
rous state  of  Scythia.  "  I  confess,"  said  Anacharsis, 
"  I  have  some  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  my  country  ; 
but  has  your  country  no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  you  ?" 

This  question  of  the  philosopher  is  applicable  to 
those  narrow-minded  men  who  traduce  foreigners, 
without  examining  their  pretension  to  notice  and  re- 
spect, and  who  are  ignorant  that  virtue  and  merit  are. 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  25 

not  limited  by  degrees  of  longitude,  but  may  be  the 
fruits  of  every  soil,  without  distinction,  from  Russia  to 
Peru. 

MARQUIS  ST.  ANDRE. 

32.  The  marquis  applied  to  Louvois,  the  war  min- 
ister under  Louis  XIV.,  for  a  small  place  then  vacant. 
Louvois  having  received  some  complaints  against  the 
marquis,  refused  to  comply.  The  marquis,  somewhat 
nettled,  rather  hastily  said,  "  If  I  were  to  enter  again 
into  the  service,  I  know  what  I  would  do."  "  And 
pray  what  would  you  do  ?"  retorted  the  minister  in  a 
furious  tone.  "  I  would  take  care,"  replied  St.  Andre, 
who  had  now  recollected  himself,  "  to  behave  in  such 
a  manner  that  your  excellency  should  have  nothing  to 
reproach  me  with.  Louvois,  agreeably  surprised  at 
his  reply,  immediately  granted  his  request. 

MICHAEL  ANGELO. 

He  united  the  various  talents  of  a  sublime  painter, 
sculptor,  and  architect.  His  forte  as  a  painter  was  dis- 
played in  his  grand  designs  and  his  anatomical  skill  ; 
his  finest  specimens  of  sculpture  were  a  Cupid  and  a 
Bacchus,  executed  in  the  perfect  style  of  the  antique  ; 
and  the  church  of  St.  Peter  at  Rome  stands  an  unri- 
valled monument  of  bis  skill  as  an  architect.  No  ar- 
tist was  ever  more  honoured  while  living,  or  revered 
when  dead. 

33.  Solitude  had  many  charms  for  him.  Retired 
completely  from  the  world,  he  formed  those  sublime 
conceptions,  which  astonish  mankind  in  his  sculpture 
and  painting.  He  said,  *  Painting  is  a  very  jealous 
lady,  who  endures  no  rival  to  share  my  affections.'  He 
was  asked  why  he  did  not  marry.  He  said,  '  Paint- 
ing is  my  wife,  and  my  works  are  my  children.' 

34.  His  father,  not  being  pleased  with  his  great 
attachment  to  painting,  used   to  scold,  when  he  saw 


26  FLOWER8    OF    WIT. 

him  engaged  in  his  darling  employment.  One  day  he 
threw  himself  into  a  violent  rage.  The  enthusiastic 
son,  instead  of  saying  a  word  in  answer  to  the  old 
man's  reproaches,  fixed  his  eyes  attentively  upon  him, 
and  exclaimed,  "  What  an  admirable  subject  for  the 
pencil  is  my  father  in  this  fine  passion  !" 

APELLES. 

35.  An  artist  showed  him  a  Venus  he  had  painted  in 
a  superb  dress,  and  asked  him,  with  an  air  of  self- 
conceit,  to  give  his  opinion  of  the  picture,  "  My  opin- 
ion,*' said  Apelles,  k'  is,  that  you  could  not  make  your 
Venus  beautiful,  and  so  you  have  made  her  gaudy  " 


■  > 


ARIOSTO. 

36.  This  great  poet  built  himself  a  small  and  plain 
iiouse  at  Ferrara,  and  adjoining  to  it  was  a  little  gar- 
den, where  he  usually  walked  and  composed  his  ver- 
ses. He  was  asked  why  he  did  not  build  a  more 
splendid  residence,  since  he  had  so  beautifully  de- 
scribed in  his  Orlando  Furioso  many  large  palaces, 
fine  porticos,  and  pleasant  fountains.  His  reply  was, 
"  It  is  much  more  easy  to  collect  words  than  stones." 

In  the  front  of  his  house  was  this  inscription,  which, 
though  concise,  well  expressed  the  sentiments  of  con- 
tentment and  independence  : 

Parva  sed  apta  mihi,  sed  nulli  obnoxia,  srd  non 
Sordida  parta  meo  sed  tamtn  are,  downs. 

"  This  cot,  both  small  and  neat,  's  design'd 
To  speak  its  master's  humble  mind  ; 
'Twas  purchas'd  at  his  own  expence, 
And  gives  to  neighbours  no  oifence.*' 

The  emperor  Charles  V.  crowned  Ariosto  with  lau- 
rels, the  year  before  he  died,  as  a  token  of  honour, 
and  a  presage  of  the  perennial  fame  of  his  poems. 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT*  27 

ARISTIDES. 

He  was  surnamed  (he  Just,  and  his  whole  conduct 
corresponded  with  this  glorious  epithet. 

37.  He  sat  as  judge  in  a  cause  when  the  plaintiff,  to 
prejudice  Aristides  in  his  favour,  began  with  saying, 
that  the  defendant  always  acted  in  opposition  to  Aris- 
tides. Aristides  interrupted  him,  and  said,  "My 
friend,  you  forget  yourself:  state  your  case  ;  for  it  is 
your  cause  I  am  to  try,  and  not  my  own." 

AR1STIPPUS. 

The  character  of  Aristippus  was  inconsistent  with 
the  seclusion  and  the  gravity  of  a  philosopher  ;  for  he 
was  a  courtier,  a  wit,  and  a  man  of  pleasure.  Yet 
that  his  desires  were  under  the  control  of  reason,  and 
that  he  could  enjoy  or  reject  pleasure  with  equal  in- 
difference, the  following  anecdote  will  show. 

38.  Dionysius  the  Tyrant  solicited  Aristippus  to 
choose  one  of  three  very  beautiful  women.  He  re- 
tained them  all,  saying,  that  Paris  had  acted  wrong  by 
presuming  to  give  a  preference  to  one  of  three  god- 
desses. But  when  he  had  conducted  the  ladies  as  far 
as  his  own  door,  he  dismissed  them  all,  saving,  "  Phi- 
losophers know  how  to  practise,  as  well  as  teach, 
self-command." 

39.  Diogenes,  washing  some  cabbages,  and  seeing 
Aristippus  approach,  said,  "  If  you  knew  how  to 
live  upon  cabbages,  you  would  not  pay  court  to  kings." 
r  And  if  you,"  replied  Aristippus,  a  knew  how  to  live 
with  kings,  you  would  not  wash  cabbages." 

40.  With  peculiar  felicity  of  allusion,  he  compared 
those  who  deserted  the  study  of  philosophy  for  other 
pursuits,  to  those  lovers  of  Penelope  who,  instead  of 
courting  the  mistress,  degraded  themselves  by  cou^ 
inj  her  maid  servants. 


28  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

41.  A  person  expressed  surprise  to  him,  that  philo- 
sophers went  always  to  princes,  and  not  princes  to  phi- 
losophers. "  Do  you  not  observe,"  said  he,  "  that 
it  is  usual  for  physicians  to  resort  to  the  houses  of 
their  patients  V 

42.  A  miser  objected  to  him  his  luxurious  table.— 
Aristippus  showed  him  an  expensive  dish  of  dainties, 
and  said,  "  Would  you  not  buy  this,  if  it  were  sold 
for  a  penny  ?"  "  Certainly  I  would,"  said  the  other. 
"  Then,"  said  Aristippus,  "  I  only  give  to  luxury, 
what  you  give  to  avarice." 

ARISTON. 

43.  A  certain  Athenian  pronounced  an  oration  in 
praise  of  some  of  his  countrymen  who  had  fallen  in  a 
battle  in  which  the  Spartans  were  victorious.  "  If 
your  countrymen,"  said  Ariston,  one  of  the  kings  of 
Sparta,  to  him,  *'  were  so  praiseworthy,  what  say  you 
of  us  who  beat  them  ?" 

ARISTOTLE. 

44.  This  chief  of  the  antient  philosophers,  being 
reproached  for  giving  money  to  a  bad  man  who  was 
in  want,  answered  with  his  usual  accuracy  of  distinc_ 
tion,  "  I  did  not  give  to  the  man,  but  to  Hijmanity.'J 

45.  Being  asked  how  friends  are  to  be  treated,  he 
answered,  "  As  we  would  wish  them  to  treat  us." 

46.  At  the  close  of  life  he  was  requested  by  his 
scholars  to  nominate  a  successor.  Theophrastus  of 
Lesbos  and  Menedemus  of  Rhodes  were  candidates  for 
this  honour.  Aristotle  ordered  two  bottles  of  wine  to 
be  brought  to  him,  the  one  from  Rhodes,  the  other 
from  Lesbos.  "  These  wines,"  said  he,  "  are  both 
very  excellent,  but  that  of  Lesbos  suits  my  palate  the 
best."  He  intended  by  this  trait  of  delicacy  and  po- 
liteness to  give  the  preference  to  Theophrastus, 


FLOWERS    Oi'    WIT.  29 

PIOVANO  ARLOTTO. 

IIb  was  a  native  of  Tuscany,  and  flourished  in  the 
i  fourteenth    century.     When  only  a  poor   curate,   his 
i  humble   condition  did   not  depress  his  vivacity,  nor 
check  the  sallies  of  his  wit  and  humour. 

47.  Ashe  was  once  preparing  to  go  a  journey,  sev- 
eral of  his  friends  requested  him  to  make  purchases 
for  them  in  the  town  to  which  he  was  going  ;  but  all, 
except  one,  neglected  to  supply  him  with  money  for 
the  purpose.  He  only  executed  the  commission  of 
this  one  ;  so  that  on  his  return,  the  others  called  upon 
him,  and  reproached  him  for  his  inattention  to  their 
wishes.  "  You  must  know,  my  friends,"  said  Arlotto, 
"  that  in  the  course  of  my  journey,  I  came  to  the  side 
of  a  river,  and  there  1  took  out  the  papers  that  con- 
tained your  commissions,  to  look  them  over  ;  on  a  sud- 
den a  gust  of  wind  arose,  and  carried  all  the  papers 
down  the  stream,  except  one,  which,  as  it  had  money 
in  it  was  too  heavy  to  be  blown  away." 

AUGUSTUS. 

48.  Ambassadors  came  from  Saragossa  to  inform 
Augustus,  that  a  palm-tree  was  growing  upon  the  al- 
tar which  they  had  raised  to  his  honour  in  that  place. 
;<  This  is  a  proof,"  said  he,  "  how  often  you  burn  sa- 
crifices to  me  there." 

49.  Augustus,  hearing  that  Alexander  the  Great, 
after  conquering  a  large  part  of  the  world,  was  at  a 
loss  how  to  employ  himself,  expressed  his  astonish- 
ment. "  Could  Alexander,"  said  he,  "  be  ignorant, 
that  to  conquer  countries  is  a  matter  of  much  less  la- 
bour than  to  govern  them  well." 

50.  He  was  told  of  an  extravagant  Roman  knight 
who  had  wasted  all  his  property.  When  his  goods 
were  sold  by  auction,  Augustus  commissioned  a  per- 

3 


30  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

son  to  bid  for  his  pillow.     Being  asked  why  he  wish 
ed  to  have   this  article  of  furniture   in  particular,  he 
replied,  "  Such  a  pillow  must  be  very  desirable,  up- 
on which  a  man  so  deep  in  debt  could  sleep  soundly." 

51.  He  gave  an  admirable  example  how  a  person 
who  sends  a  challenge  ought  to  be  treated.  When  Mark 
Antony,  after  the  battle  of  Actium,  sent  him  a  chal- 
lenge, his  answer  to  the  messenger  who  brought  it, 
was,  "  Tell  Mark  Antony,  if  he  be  weary  of  life, 
there  are  other  ways  of  despatch  :  I  shall  not  there- 
fore take  the  trouble  to  be  his  executioner." 

52.  A  simple  youth  coming  to  Rome  from  the  coun- 
try, was  observed  to  resemble  Augustus  so  much,  that 
it  was  the  subject  of  general  conversation.  The  em- 
peror ordered  him  to  appear  at  court,  and  inquired  of 
him,  if  his  mother  had  ever  been  in  Rome  ?  "  No," 
answered  the  youth,  "  but  my  father  has." 

53.  A  Roman  presented  a  petition  to  Augustus  in  a 
timid  manner,  and  with  a  trembling  hand.  "  This 
man,"  said  Augustus,  "  behaves  as  if  he  was  offering  a 
piece  of  money  to  an  elephant." 

54.  As  Augustus  was  pleased  with  the  company  of 
Virgil  and  Horace,  he  invited  them  frequently  to  his 
table,  and  used  to  seat  himself  between  the  two  poets. 
Virgil  was  asthmatic,  and  Horace  had  weak  eyes.  The 
emperor  said  jocosely,  in  allusion  to  his  situation  be- 
tween these  two  invalids, 

"  Here  I  am,  between  sighs  and  tears." 

FRIAR  BACON. 

Roger  Bacon,  a  Franciscan  friar,  was  the  bright 
»tar  of  philosophy  that  shone  in  the  dark  hemisphere 
of  the  thirteenth  century.  On  account  of  his  great 
proficiency  in  mathematics  and  chemistry,  he  was  re- 
puted a  magician.  He  undertook  the  composition  of 
gunpowder,  the  structure  of  the  air  pump,  and  of  tele- 


FLOWERS  OF    WIT.  31 

scopes.  That  he  sometimes  recreated  himself  by 
blending  facetious  pranks  with  his  scientific  pursuits, 
appears  from  the  following  anecdote,  recorded  by  An- 
tony Wood. 

55.  "  Once  upon  a  time,  several  scholars  of  Cam- 
bridge came  to  dispute  with  the  scholars  of  Oxford, 
with  fair  promises  to  themselves  of  returning*conquei- 
ors  ;  the  which  Friar  Bacon  hearing,  feigned  himself 
a  thatcher,  and  when  he  was  upon  a  house  at  Oxford's 
town's  end,  he,  upon  the  approach  of  the  Cantabrigi- 
ans, came  down  to  meet  them,  and  drawing  near  to 
them,  one  of  the  Cantabs  said  to  him,  Rustice,  quid 
queens  ?  Bacon,  the  thatcher,  answered,  Ut  rnecum 
verciflcer\s.  Then  quoth  another  of  the  Cambridge 
scholars,  Versificator  tu  ?  Bacon  answered,  Melior  turn 
solis  ab  ortu  ?  Whereupon  the  Cantabrigians,  seeing 
that  Oxford  thatchers  were  so  good  versifiers,  and 
being  more  afraid  of  the  scholars  themselves,  return- 
ed to  Cambridge  re  infecta." 

SIR  NICHOLAS  BACON. 

56.  Queen  Elizabeth  made  him  lord  chancellor 
and  secretary  of  state.  The  queen,  when  she  visited 
him  at  Hertford,  said,  "  This  house  is  too  small  for  a 
man  like  you."  "  Madam,"  replied  the  chancellor, 
"  it  is  your  majesty's  fault,  for  you  have  made  me  too 
large  for  my  house." 

57.  He  proved  how  well  he  could  apply  his  po- 
liteness to  making  an  apology.  When  he  was  newly 
made  lord  keeper,  he  was  in  Gray's-inn  Walks  with 
Sir  Walter  Raleigh  :  and  a  person  came  and  told  him 
that  the  earl  of  Exeter  was  above.  He  still  continued 
to  walk  a  good  while-  At  last,  when  he  came  up,  the 
earl  of  Exeter  met  him,  and  said,  "  My  lord,  I  have 
made  a  great  venture,  to  come  up  so  high  stairs,  be- 
ing a  gouty  man."  The  lord  keeper  answered,  "  Par- 
don me,  my  lord,  I  have  made  the  greatest  venture  of 
al! ;  for  I  have  ventured  upon  your  patience." 


32  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

LORD  BACON. 

In  his  official  conduct,  as  lord  high  chancellor,  he 
was  cuipable  rather  for  his  misplaced  confidence  i\r,m 
his  peculation.  It  is  probable,  that  he  allowed  his 
officers  to  accept  presents,  but  it  fs  not  clear  that  he 
ever  took  any  himself.  New  eveidence  of  his  integ- 
rity has  lltely  been  furnished  by  the  publication  of 
the  papers  of  John  Aubrey,  the  Oxford  antiquarian  ; 
from  them  it  appears  that  one  of  his  servants  acquired 
an  estate  of  a  thousand  a  year,  and  that  others  kept 
their  coaches. 

Lord  Bacon  was  the  great  projector  of  a  plan  for 
conducting  the  researches  of  philosophy  upon  the 
most  accurate,  certain,  and  comprehensive  principles. 
Jfe  proposed  to  substitute  experiments  for  theories,  and 
laid  the  foundation  of  a  solid  edifice  of  human  know- 
ledge, which  rises  in  due  proportion  and  regular  order 
from  earth  to  heaven.  VVhat  a  vast  extent  of  investi- 
gation his  comprehensive  mind  embraced,  may  h.-*  as- 
certained by  the  study  of  his  three  principal  works,  his 
Advancement  of  Learning,  De  Jtugmentis  Seientiarum, 
and  Novum  Organ  urn.  Man/  proofs  may  be  brought 
to  show  how  well  the  mod^  he  recommends  has  since 
succeeded,  and  how  fruitful  it  has  been  in  new  discov- 
eries. Newton  applied  it  wit!;  '.vonde-fui  success  to  the 
science  of  optics  ;  and  the  add  tions  it  has  made  to 
real  knowledge  in  natural  history,  botany,  mineralogy, 
chemistiy,  and  geology,  are  sufficient! y  evinced  by  the 
works  of  Boyle,  Buffon,  Linnaeus,  Lavoisier,  Fouicroy, 
De  Lisle,  Priestley,  Black,  and  de  Luc. 

58.  Lord  Bacon  was  not  hasty  to  raise  theories, 
but  proceeded  s'owi  by  experiments.  He  was  wont 
to  say  to  some  philosophers  who  would  not  go  his 
pace,  "  Gentlemen,  nature  is  a  labyrinth,  in  which  the 
very  haste  you  move  with,  will  make  you  lose  your 
way." 

59.  He  selected  the  most  apt  illustrations,  when  he 
marked  the  distinctions  between  the  various  pursuits 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  33 

of  philosophers.  He  said,  the  empirical  philosophers 
are  like  to  pismires  ;  they  lay  up  and  use  their  store. 
The  rationalists  are  like  the  spiders  ;  they  spin  all 
out  of  their  own  bowels.  But  give  me  a  philosopher, 
who  like  the  bee,  hath  a  middle  faculty,  gathering 
from  abroad,  but  digesting  that  which  is  gathered  by 
his  own  virtue." 

60.  He  gave  early  proofs  of  extraordinary  talents. 
When  he  was  a  little  boy,  queen  Elizabeth  asked  him, 
how  old  he  was  ?  He  replied,  "  Madam,  1  was  two 
years  old  when  you  began  your  happy  reign." 

61.  He  was  wont  to  say  of  a  passionate  man,  who 
suppressed  his  anger,  "  that  he  thought  worse  than  he 
spoke  ;  and  he  said  of  an  angry  man,  who  vented  his 
passion  in  words,  "  That  he  spoke  worse  than  he 
thought." 

62.  Queen  Elizabeth  being  much  enraged  against 
Dr.  Hayward,  author  of  the  Life  of  Henry  the  Fourth, 
had  ordered  her  law  officers  to  proceed  against  him, 
and,  amongst  others,  inquired  of  Bacon,  "  If  there  was 
not  treason  in  the  book  ?"  The  witty  lawyer  readily 
answered,  "  No,  madam,  I  cannot  answer  for  there 
being  treason  in  it,  but.  1  am  certain  it  contains  much. 
felony."  "  How  !"  eagerly  exclaimed  her  majesty, 
"  How  and  wherein  ?"  "  In  many  passages,"  replied 
he,  "  which  he  has  stolen  from  Tacitus." 

63.  At  no  time  of  life  should  a  man  give  up  the 
thoughts  of  enjoying  the  society  of  women.  "  In 
youth,"  says  lord  Bacon,  "women  are  our  mistresses, 
at  a  riper  age  our  companions,  in  old  age  our  nurses, 
and  in  all  ages  our  friends." 

64.  He  was  asked  by  king  James  I.  what  he  thought 
of  Mr.  Caderes,  a  very  tall  man  who  was  sent  on  an 
embassy  to  the  king  of  France.     He  said,  "  Very  ta'.l 

3* 


34  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

men  are  like  lofty  houses,  where  the  uppermost  rooms 
are  commonly  the  most  meanly  furnished." 

65.  Gondomar,  the  Spanish  ambassador,  called  up- 
on lord  Bacon  after  his  disgrace  ;  and,  intending  to 
taunt  him  in  his  misfortunes,  said,  "  My  lord,  1  wish 
you  a  merry  Easter."  "  And  to  you,  senor,  replied 
lord  Bac?m.  "  I  wish  a  good  passover  ;"  reminding 
him  of  his  Jewish  descent  ;  which  was  the  most  cut- 
ting retort  that  could  be  made  to  a  Spaniard. 

BALTAGI  MAHOMET. 

66.  This  grand  vizir,  by  his  military  stratagems, 
placed  the  czar  Peter  in  the  same  situation  on  the 
banks  of  the  Pruth,  to  which  the  czar  had  reduced 
Charles  XII.  at  Pultowa.  From  this  perilous  crisis  of 
his  affairs,  he  was  extricated  by  the  admirable  address 
of  his  wife  Catharine,  who  found  means  to  prevail  up- 
on the  grand  vizir  to  conclude  a  treaty  of  peace. 
When  the  treaty  was  signed,  Charles  XII.  arrived,  im- 
patient for  battle,  exulting  in  the  certainty  of  having 
his  old  enemy  the  czar  in  his  power.  The  Swedish 
monarch  being  informed  that  the  treaty  had  been  just 
concluded,  inflamed  with  disappointment  and  rage,  flew 
to  the  tent  of  the  grand  vizir,  and  reproached  him  for 
what  he  had  done.  "  I  have  the  power,"  answered 
Baltagi,  with  a  calm  aspect,  '*  to  make  either  peace  or 
war  ;  and  our  law  commands  us  to  grant  peace  to  our 
enemies,  when  they  implore  our  mercy."  "  Does  it 
command  you,"  replied  Charles  in  an  angry  tone,  "  to 
make  a  weak  and  disadvantageous  treaty,  when  you 
may  impose  what  laws  you  please  ?  Had  you  not  a  fine 
opportunity  to  conduct  the  czar  a  prisoner  to  Con- 
stantinople ?"  "  And  who  then,"  retorted  the  vizir 
with  sarcastic  dryness,  alluding  to  Charles  having 
been  so  long  absent  from  Sweden.  "  couid  govern  his 
empire  in  his  absence  ?  It  is  not  fit  that  all  sovereigns 
should  leave  their  dominions." 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  35 

FRANCIS  BASSEMPIERRE, 

67.  A  general  of  the  Swiss  guards  in  the  service 
}f  Louis  XIII.  He  indulged  his  wit  at  the  expence 
sf  his  liberty,  for  he  was  confined  in  the  Bastile  for  his 
:austic  speeches.  He  passed  his  time  in  prison  in 
-eading  and  writing.  One  day,  as  he  was  busily  tuni- 
ng over  the  leaves  of  the  Bible,  a  friend  asked  him, 
'  What  he  was  looking  for  ?"  A  passage,  said  he, 
'  which  I  cannot  find."  This  passage  was  the  way 
)ut  of  prison.  When  he  was  liberated,  Louis  XIII. 
isked  him  his  age,  and  he  reported  himself  to  be  no 
-nore  than  fifty.  The  king  seeming  surprised,  "  Sire,' 
le  answered,  "  I  deduct  ten  years  passed  in  the  Bas- 
ile,  because  I  did  not  employ  them  in  your  service." 

How  happily  was  this  allusion  to  his  confinement 
converted  into  an  elegant  compliment  1 

BAYLE. 

68.  His  Critical  Dictionary  is  an  immense  reposito- 
ry of  facts  and  opinions.  The  power  which  he  boldly 
exercised  of  assembling  doubts  and  objections,  tempt- 
ed him  jocosely  to  take  the  title  of  the  "  cloud-com- 
peHing  Jove  ;"  and  in  a  conversation  with  the  ingen- 
ious Abbe  de  Polignac,  he  freely  disclosed  his  univer-" 
sal  Pyrrhonism.  "lam  most  truly,"  said  Bayle,  a 
Protestant,  for  I  protest  indifferently  against  all  systems, 
and  all  sects." 

69.  He  pronounced  one  of  the  most  severe  strictures 
on  the  fair  sex.  He  was  asked  if  women  could  keep 
a  secret.  "There  is  one  secret,"  said  he,  "  and  that 
is  the  only  one  they  can  keep, — their  age. 

70.  "  If  Bayle,"  said  Voltaire,  "  could  have  foreseen 
in  how  high  esteem  his  Diciionary  would  be  held,  he 
would  have  made  it  more  useful  by  omitting  the  lives 
of  obscure  men,  and  by  inserting  more  of  those  that 
were  eminent.     Des  Maiseaux  has  written  the  Life  of 


FLO\V£RS    OF    WIT. 


Bayle  in  a  bulky  volume,  it  ought  not  to  have  exceed- 
ed half  a  dozen  pages.  The  life  of  a  sedentary  author 
is  contained  in  his  writings." 


WHAT  IS  BEAUTY  ? 

How  various,  and  even  opposite,  are  the  notions, 
which  the  natives  of  different  countries  entertain  of 
personal  beauty  !  Yet  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
the  expression  of  the  soft  emotions  of  benevolence, 
pity,  and  love,  as  shown  in  the  female  face,  is  pleasing 
to  all  the  world.  The  different  opinions  of  beauty  en- 
tertained in  various  countries,  relate  to  colour  and  to 
form  ;  and  these  opinions  arise  from  national  customs, 
or  certain  prejudices  widely  extended,  which  alter  the 
natural  taste.  In  China,  the  chief  beauty  of  women  is 
thought  to  consist  in  the  smallness  of  their  feet  :  as 
soon  as  girls  are  born,  the  nurses  confine  their  feet 
with  the  tightest  ligatures,  to  prevent  their  growth. 
Tne  women  of  Arabia  colour  their  eye-brows  with  a 
black  powder,  and  draw  a  black  line  under  their  eyes, 
to  make  them  appear  more  prominent  and  expressive.' 

71.  In  the  time  of  the  old  Court,  the  faces  of  the  Pa- 
risian ladies  were  spotted  with  patches,  and  plastered' 
with  rouge.  Lord  Chesterfield,  when  at  Paris,  was  ask-i 
ed  by  Voltaire,  if  he  did  not  think  some  French  ladieal 
then  in  company,  whose  cheeks  were  fashionably  tint- 
ed, very  beautiful.  "Excuse  me,"  said  lord  Chester- 
field, "  from  giving  an  opinion — for  I  am  no  judge  of 
paintings." 

72.  A  well-looking  Englishman,  as  he  was  travelling 
among  the  alps,  attracted  much  notice  ;  but  the  natives 
thought  his  person  deficient  in  one  important  point, 
which  they  flattered  themselves  was  a  local  beauty. 
"  How  completely  handsome,"  they  said,  "  this  Eng- 
lishman would  be,  if  he  had,  like  us,  a  swelling  uu< 
der  his  throat !" 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  37 

BIAS. 

73.  He  was  one  of  the  seven  wise  men  of  Greece. 
Vhen  the  city  of  Priene,  his  native  place,  was  be- 
ieged,  arid  every  inhabitant  hastened  to  carry  away 
is  most  valuable  effects,  some  one  asked  Bias,  why 
e    retire  J    with  empty  hands.     "I    carry,"  said  he, 

all  my  property  with  me."  By  this  speech  he 
leant  to  imply,  tnat  virtue  and  knowledge,  the  riches 
f  the  mind,  were  the  only  things  deserving  the  name 
f  property. 

ROBERT   BIGOD,   EARL  OF  NOR- 
FOLK. 

74.  When  Edward  T.  king  of  England,  commanded 
everal  of  his  lords  to  go  to  the  wars  in  France,  they 
11  made  apologies  to  excuse  themselves.  They  rep- 
esented  they  were  not  obliged  to  go  to  war  out  of 
heir  own  country,  unless  his  majesty  went  in  person  ; 
n  that  case,  they  would  attend  him,  but  not  otherwise, 
thereupon  the  king,  in  a  great  rage,  said  to  Kobert 
3igod,  earl  of  Norfolk  :  "  By  God,  *ir  earl,  you  shall 
:ither  go,  or  hang  "  "  By  God,  sir  king,"  was  the 
nswer,  "I  will  neither  go  nor  hang."  And  so  he 
vent  away  without  leave,  assembled  many  noblemen 
md  other  friends,  and  stood  in  his  own  defei.ee  ;  and 
he  king,  like  a  prudent  prince,  who  knew  his  times, 
nsisted  no  more  upon  that  matter. 

THE  CALIPH  BILLAH. 

75.  A  satirist  had  written  some  very  bitter  verses 
eflecting  upon  the  conduct  of  the  grand  vizir  of  Bil- 
ah,  the  second  caliph  of  the  race  of  the  Fatamites  in 
Egypt  ;  and  he  had  the  audacity  to  apply  the  lash  of 
li' censure  even  to  the  caliph  himself.  The  vizir  in 
i  great  rage  complained  to  his  master,  and  demanded 
he  instant  and  rigorous  punishment  of  the  satirist. 


38  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

The  caliph  read  the  verses  with  great  composure,  andi 
said,  "  Abate  your  resentment,  pardon  the  culprit  ;  anc, 
as  I  share  the  injury  with  you,  it  is  my  desire  that  yot 
share  with  me  the  merit  of  my  forgiveness." 

BOILEAU  THE  POET. 

76.  A  man  of  plain  good  sense,  but  totally  unacquaint- 
ed with  literature,  said  once  in  the  presence  ofBoileau. 
that  he  had  rather  be  able  to  make  a  wig  than  to  make 
a  poem  ;  adding,  "  What  is  the  use  of  poetry,  and' 
what  end  does  it  answer  ?"  "This  very  circumstance,"' 
replied  Boileau,  "  raises  my  admiration  of  poetry,! 
that  having  nothing  useful  in  it,  it  is  nevertheless  thel 
delight  of  all  men." 

77.  He  used  to  say  that  the  best  epigrams  original 
ed  in  conversation  ;  and  of  all  his  own  he  gave  the1 
preference  to  the  following : 

Ci  git  mafemme,  ah  quelle  est  bien 
Pour  son  repos,  ct  pour  le  mien  ! 

il  Here  lies  my  wife,  and  heaven  knows, 
Not  less  for  mine,  than  her  repose  !" 

78.  When  he  had  published  a  new  work,  and  his 
friends  came  and  told  him  that  the  critics  spoke  very 
severely  of  it  :  "  So  much  the  better,"  said  he,  "  for 
they  never  speak  at  all  of  bad  works." 

79.  "  What  is  the  reason,"  asked  a  friend,  "  that 
you  are  so  very  punctual  in  keeping  your  dinner  en-; 
gagements  ?"  "  I  am  so,"  said  Boileau,  "  by  way  of 
prevention.  The  time  persons  wait  for  you  at  dinner 
is  generally  employed  either  in  enlarging  upon  the 
faults  you  have,  or  imputing  to  you  those  you  have  not."  | 

80.  Boileau  was  one  day  visited  by  a  nobleman,  a 
great  lounger,  who  reproached  him  with  not  having  j 
jeturned  bis  first  visit.    "  You,  and  I,"  said  Boileau, 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  39 

'  meet  upon  unequal  terms.  I  lose  my  time  when  I 
>ay  a  visit,  you  only  get  rid  of  yours  when  you  do  so.'* 
fet  when  Menage  called  upon  him  one  day,  and  on 
nding  him  at  his  studies,  begged  his  pardon  for  in- 
errupting  him,  Boileau  replied,  "  Sir,  one  man  of  let- 
ere  can  never  interrupt  another." 

THE  ABBE  BOILEAU. 

81.  The  great  Conde,  on  entering  the  city  of  Sens, 
ras  complimented  with  an  oration  by  the  abbe  Boileau, 
rother  to  the  poet,  then  dean  of  the  cathedral,  attend- 
d  by  the  clergy.  The  great  Conde  leaned  forward, 
s  if  to  hear  the  orator  more  distinctly,  but  in  fact  it 
fas  his  intention  to  put  him  out  of  countenance.  The 
bbe"  aware  of  his  design,  pretended  to  be  greatly  agi- 
ated,  and  began  his  speech  with  evident  embarrass- 
ment. "Your  highness,"  said  he,  "  must  not  be  sur- 
rised  to  see  me  so  nervous  and  so  much  agitated  on 
ppearing  before  you,  at  the  head  of  these  inoffensive 
cclesiastics,  for  if  I  was  now  facing  you  at  the  head  of 
large  army,  I  should  tremble  much  more  than  I  do." 
he  prince  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  abbe  for  his 
Idress,  that  he  invited  him  to  dinner. 

QUEEN  ANNE  BOLEYN. 

82.  As  queen  Anne,  wife  of  Henry  VIII.  and  moth- 
r  of  queen  Elizabeth,  was  going  to  be  beheaded  in 
le.  Tower,  seeing  a  gentleman  there  of  the  king's 
rivy  chamber,  she  called  him  to  her,  and  with  a 
leerful  countenance,  and  a  soul  undaunted  at  ap- 
roaching  death,  said  to  him,  "  ixemember  me  to  the 
ing,  and  tell  him  he  is  constant  in  advancing  me  to 
ie  greatest  honours.  From  a  private  gentlewoman  he 
ade  me  a  marchioness  ;  from  that  degree  made  me 
queen  ;  and  now,  because  he  can  raise  me  no  higher 

this  world,  he  is  translating  me  to  heaven,  to  wear 
crown  of  martyrdom  in  eternal  glory." 


40  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

BISHOP  BONNER. 

83.  Henry  VIII.  having  quarrelled  with  Francis  I. 
resolved  to  send  an  ambassador  to  deliver  a  messag 
to  the  French  monarch  in  the  most  menacing  terms 
and  appointed  bishop  Bonner  to  execute  the  commis 
sion.  The  bishop  told  the  king,  that  his  embass 
would  cost  him  his  life.  "  Should  Francis,''  said  th 
enraged  Henry,  "  dare  to  make  such  a  sacrifice  ofyoi 
my  representative,  I  will  instantly  cut  off  the  heads  c 
all  the  Frenchmen  in  my  dominions."  "So  you  ma) 
sir,"  replied  the  bishop  ;  "  but  I  fear  that  there  i 
not  one  of  them  that  will  fit  my  shoulders." 

BOSSUET. 

He  was  bishop  ofMeaux,  preceptor  to  the  Dauphir 
the  son  of  Louis  XIV.  Pious,  eloquent,  and  sublime 
he  wrote  many  excellent  works  ;  but  his  Funeral  Ora 
tions,  and  his  Discourse  on  Universal  History,  are  th 
main  pillars  of  his  literary  fame. 

84.  Louis  XiV.  used  to  consult  him  upon  variou 
occasions.  One  day  the  king  said,  as  he  entered  hi 
apartment,  "  We  are  talking  of  dramatic  entertain 
ments  :  what  is  your  opinion  cf  them  "  "  Sire,"  s 
he,  "  there  are  great  precedents  in  their  favour,  bu 
invincible  objections  against  them." 

85.  Whenever  he  had  a  funeral  sermon  to  compose 
he  read  Homer  in  the  original  Greek.  This  stud; 
raised  his  style  to  the  due  elevation  of  the  subjeci| 
"  I  light  my  lamp/'  said  he,  "  with  the  rays  of  th 
sun." 

THE  DUKE  OF  BOURBON. 

86.  The  duke  of  Bourbon,  general  of  the  army  c 
of  Charles  V.,  received  his  death  wound  in  the  assaul 
of  the  city  of  Rome.     Some  of  the  soldiers,  passinj 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  41 

near  the  place  where  he  was  stretched  upon  the  ground 
nearly  expiring,  asked  each  other  if  it  was  true  that  the 
duke  was  dead.  He  hearing  their  inquiries,  and  wish- 
ing not  to  discourage  them,  exclaimed,  "Bourbon  is 
gone  forward !" 

TOM  BROWN. 

87.  Tom  Brown,  having  once  asked  a  man  how  he 
contrived  to  live  in  these  hard  times,  was  answered, 
"  I  live,  as  I  believe  you  do,  master  Brown,  by  my 
wits:"  "'Faith,"  replied  Brown,  "you  must  be  a 
much  more  able  trader  than  I  ever  thought  you,  to 
carry  on  business  and  thrive  upon  so  small  a  capital." 

LE  BRUx\. 

88.  He  possessed  in  a  great  degree,  that  warm  ima- 
gination and  enthusiasm  wich  stimulate  the  efforts  and 
increase  the  raptures  of  an  artist.  Some  one  said  in 
his  presence,  of  his  well-known  picture  of  the  Mag- 
dalen, That  the  contrite  beautiful  penitent  was  really 
weeping.  "  That,"  said  he,  "  is  all  perhaps  that  you 
can  perceive  :  I  hear  her  sigh." 

BUCHANAN. 

89.  "  The  famous  poet  Buchanan,  in  his  travels,  was 
taken  hold  of  by  some  of  the  pope's  inquisitors,  who 
by  his  free  writing  suspected  his  religion  ;  but  he,  to 
acquit  himself,  wrote  unto  his  holiness  this  distichon : 

Law  lua,  non  tuafraus,  virtus  non  copia  rerum, 
Scandert  te  fecil  hue  dtcus  eximium. 

For  which  encomium  he  wras  set  at  liberty  ;  and  being 
gone  out  of  the  pope's  jurisdiction,  he  sent  to  his  holi- 
ness, and  desired  according  to  his  own  true  meaning,  to 

4 


12  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

read   the   self-same   verses    backward,    which    were 
ihese  : 


Eximium  decus  hoc  fecit  te  scandere  rerum 
Copia  non  virtus,  fraus  lua,  non  tua  laus." 

BUDiEUS. 

He  was  esteemed  one  of  the  most  learned  men  in 
France  in  the  sixteenth  century.  He  was  a  man  of 
family  and  fortune  ;  by  a  singular  transition  of  pursuits, 
from  a  gamester  and  a  sportsman  he  became  a  hard  stu- 
dent and  a  prolific  author.  His  progress  in  the  learned 
languages  was  astonishingly  rapid  ;  although,  as  he 
said  of  himself,  he  was  both  self-taught  and  late  taught, 
yet  his  works  prove  the  soundness  of  his  erudition. 
His  application  was  intense  ;  his  book  was  the  magnet 
that  attracted  all  his  faculties. 

30.  He  was  engaged  in  deep  study  in  his  library, 
when  a  servant  came  running  to  him  in  a  great  fright, 
fo  tell  him  the  house  was  on  fire.  "  Go,"  said  he. 
with  perfect  calmness,  and  hardly  raising  his  eyes 
from  his  book,  "  and  inform  your  mistress  ;  'tis 
her  concern,  you  know  I  never  interfere  in  domestic 
matters." 

91.  Francis  the  First  took  great  delight  in  his  com- 
pany, gave  him  a  pension,  and  appointed  him  master 
of  the  requests,  a  considerable  office  in  the  parliament 
of  Paris.  Budseus  accompanied  Francis  the  First  in 
his  splendid  interview  with  Henry  V 1  i I . ,  near  Ardres. 
Francis  asked  him  one  day,  "  Suppose  all  books  were 
ordered  to  be  burnt,  whose  works  would  you  wish,  to 
save  from  the  flames  ?"  "  The  works  of  Plutarch," 
he  replied  ;  "  for  they  contain  the  elements  of  every 
thing  that  is  known,"" 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  43 

EDMUND  BURKE. 

92.  Dr.  Johnson  said  of  him,  "  That  you  could 
not  stand  five  minutes  with  him  beneath  a  shed  while 
it  rained,  but  you  must  be  convinced  you  had  been  talk- 
ing with  the  greatest  man  you  had  ever  seen." 

93.  Dr.  Robertson  observed,  That  Johnson's  jokes 
were  the  rebukes  of  the  righteous,  described  in  scrip- 
ture as  being  like  excellent  oil.  "  Yes,"  exclaimed 
Burke,  "  oil  of  vitriol !" 

94.  As  he  was  declaiming  with  great  animation 
against  Hastings,  he  was  interrupted  by  little  Major 
Scott.  "  Am  I,"  said  he  indignantly,  "  to  be  teased 
by  the  barking  of  this  jackal,  while  1  am  attacking  the 
royal  tiger  of  Bengal  ?" 

S5.  When  he  made  his  famous  motion  in  the  house 
of  commons  for  the  impeachment  of  Mr-  Hastings, 
he  adverted  to  the  tyrannical  and  cruel  measures 
exercised  by  several  of  the  governors  of  India  ;  and 
said,  "  They  not  only  made  a  monopoly  of  rice,  which 
brought  on  a  famine  in  Hindostan,  but  deprived  the 
the  wretched  natives  of  the  very  opium  which  would 
have  enabled  them  to  forget  both  their  oppressions  and 
their  oppressors." 

96.  In  speaking  against  Lord  North,  he  quoted  the 
Latin  adage,  Magnum  vectigal  est  parsimonia,  and 
made  a  false  quantity.  Lord  North  corrected  him. 
Mr.  Burke  congratulated  the  house  of  commons  on  the 
progress  the  noble  lord  was  making  in  knowledge,  and 
said,  "  There  was  now  some  hope  of  his  proceeding 
from  sound  to  sense." 

97.  There  never  was  a  stronger  contrast  between 
two  candidates  upon  the  hustings  than  between  Mr. 
Burke  and  Mr.  Cruder,  at  a  Bristol  election.     The 


44  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

former  tired  his  hearers  with  his  prolix  harangues  : 
the  only  speech  the  latter  made,  if  speech  it  could  be 
called,  was,  "  I  say  ditto  to  Mr.  Burke,  I  say  ditto  to 
Mr.  Burke  " 

98.  Burke* s  Cliaracter  of  Howard. 

4*  His  plan,"  said  Burke,  "  is  original ;  and  it  is  as 
full  of  genius,  as  it  is  of  humanity.  He  has  visited  all 
Europe,  not  to  survey  the  sumptuH>usness  of  palaces,  or 
the  statelinessof  temples  ;  not  to  make  accurate  meas- 
urements of  ancient  grandeur,  nor  to  form  a  scale  ot 
the  curiosities  of  modern  art  ;  not  to  collect  medals,  or 
to  collate  manuscripts  ;  but  to  dive  into  the  depth  ot 
dungeons,  to  plunge  into  the  infection  of  hospitals,  to 
survey  the  mansions  of  sorrow  and  pain  ;  to  take  the 
gauge  and  dimensions  of  misery,  depression  and  con- 
tempt ;  to  remember  the  forgotten,  to  attend  to  the 
neglected,  to  visit  the  forsaken,  and  to  compare  and 
collate  the  distresses  of  all  men  in  all  countries." 

BISHOP  BURNET. 

He  is  an  entertaining,  though  a  prolix  historian.  He 
was  a  man  of  inflexible  principles  ;  for  he  refused  the 
see  of  Chichester,  offered  him  by  Charles  II.,  whose 
politics  he  disapproved,  but  accepted  that  of  Salisbury 
from  William  ill.,  and  declared  for  the  toleration  of 
the  non-conformists. 

99.  He  was  extravagantly  fond  of  tobacco  and  writ- 
ing :  to  enjoy  both  at  the  same  time,  he  perforated  the 
broad  brim  of  his  large  hat,  and  putting  his  long  pipe 
through  it,  puffed  and  wrote,  and  wrote  and  puffed  again. 
He  was  a  remarkably  absent  man  in  company.  He 
earnestly  entreated  the  great  John  duke  of  Marloorough 
to  allow  him  to  meet  prince  Eugene  at  his  table. 
"Bishop,"  said  the  duke,  "you  know  how  forgetful 
you  are,  will  you  be  accurate  ?"  "  Your  grace  may 
depend  upon  my  caution."  Prince  Eugene  observing 
the  bishop  at  table,  inquired  of  him,  whether  he  was 


FLO  WERS    OF    WIT.  45 

ever  at  Paris  ?  "  Yes,  and  please  your  highness,"  said 
ihe  bishop,  "  I  was  there  in  the  very  same  year  the 
princess  de  Soissons  was  taken  up  on  suspicion  of  pois- 
oning her  husband."  Now  it  happened  that  this  lady 
was  the  mother  of  prince  Eugene  !  The  bishop,  re- 
collecting himself  when  too  late,  retired  covered  with 
confusion  ;  and  it  is  superfluous  to  add,  that  neither 
ihe  duke  nor  prince  Eugene  was  anxious  to  recall  him, 

100.  Dining  one  day  with  Sarah  duchess  of  Marlbo- 
rough, a  lady  not  distinguished  by  the  complacency  of 
her  temper,  soon  after  the  duke's  disgrace,  the  bishop 
compared  this  great  general  to  Belisarius.  "  But," 
said  the  duchess,  "  how  came  it  to  pass,  that  such  a 
man  became  at  the  close  of  life  so  miserable,  and  so 
universally  deserted  ?"  "  I  will  tell  you,  madam," 
said  the  bishop  ;  "  it  was  because  he  had  such  a 
termagant  for  his  wife  !" 

JULIUS  O/ESAR. 

101.  He  was  remarkable  for  presence  of  mind. 
When  he  made  an  expedition  into  Africa,  as  he  was 
going  on  shore  his  foot  slipped,  and  he  fell  down.  This 
fall  might  have  been  looked  upon  by  his  soldiers  as  a 
bad  omen  ;  so  to  make  them  suppose  it  a  good  one., 
he  spread  out  his  arms,  and  embraced  the  earth,  say- 
ing, "  O  Africa  !  thus  I  hold  thee  fast." 

102.  A  soldier  boasted  to  Julius  Caesar  of  the  many 
wounds  he  had  received  in  his  face.  Caesar',  knowing 
him  to  be  a  coward,  said  to  him,  "  The  next  time  you 
run  away,  you  had  better  take  care  how  you  look  be- 
hind you." 

R.  O.  CAMBRIDGE. 

103.  The  following  translation  of  a  passage  in  Boi- 
leau,  was  made  by  Mr.  K.  O.  Cambridge,  in  the  85th 
year  of  bis  age.    Its  application  to  the  ambitious  ruler 


1G  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

of  France,  did  great  credit  to  the  judgment  of  the 
veteran  poet. 

Thus  of  Pyrrhus  inquir'd  his  old  tutor  and  friend  ; 

These  elephants,  soldiers,  and  ships,  to  what  end? 
Pyr.  To  a  siege,  for  I've  oft  been  invited  to  come, 

And  with  glory  to  conquer  all-conquering  Rome. 
Tut.    I  agree,  that  great  glory  from  thence  would  ensue, 

And  'tis  worthy  alone  Alexander,  or  you. 

After  such  an  exploit  there's  no  more  to  be  done. 
Pyr.  Yes... the  countries  that  border  on  Rome  must  be  won. 
Tut.    Any  more  ?  Pyr.  Don't  you  see  Syracuse  is  so  near  ? 
Tut.    Any  more  ?  Pyr.  Give  me  that,  and  to  Carthage  1  steer. 
Tut.    Now  1  seeyour'e  resolv'd  to  be  master  of  all, 

The  near  and  the.distant,  the  great  and  the  small  ; 

And  I  plainly  perceive  you  will  not  be  at  rest, 

Till  you've  tir'd  all  the  East,  when  you've  conquer"d 
the  West. 

So  Egypt  is  yours  ;  your  ambition  then  ranges, 

And  bears  you  away  to  the  Tigris,  and  Ganges  ; 

But  when  crown'd  with  success,  &ud  with  glory  you 
tire  us, 

What's  left  to  be  done  when  return'd  to  Epirus  ? 
Pyr.  Why  to  feast  on  good  cheer,  and  good  liquor  to  quaff, 

And  forgetting  our  labours,  to  sit  down  and  laugh. 
Tut.  Then  why  should  we  travel  to  Egypt  or  Rome  ? 

Who  forbids  us  to  laugh  without  stirring  from  home? 

LORD  CAMPDEN. 

104.  He  expressed  himself  in  an  unusual  strain  of 
eloquence  upon  the  subject  of  literary  property.  "Glo- 
ry," said  he,  "  is  the  reward  of  science  ;  and  those  who 
deserve  it,  scorn  all  meaner  views.  It  was  not  for 
gain  that  Bacon,  Newton,  Milton,  and  Locke,  instructed 
and  delighted  the  world.  When  the  bookseller  offered 
Milton  five  pounds  for  his  Paradise  Lost,  he"  did  not 
deject  it,  and  commit  his  poem  to  the  flames  ;  nor  did 
he  accept  the  miserable  pittance  as  the  reward  of  his 
labour  ;  he  knew,  that  the  real  price  of  his  work  was 
immortality,  and  that  posterity  would  pay  it." 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  47 

ARTHUR  LORD  CAPEL. 

105.  Lord  Clarendon  said  of  him,  "  He  was  a 
man  that  whoever  shall  after  him  deserve  best  of  the 
English  nation,  he  can  never  think  himself  undervalued, 
when  he  shall  hear  that  his  courage,  virtue,  and  fidelity, 
are  laid  in  the  balance  with,  and  compared  to,  that  of 
the  lord  Capel." 

106.  One  of  Lord  CapeFs  sayings  was,  "  Sharp  and 
bitter  jests  are  blunted  more  by  neglecting  than  by 
responding,  except  they  be  suddenly  and  wittily  retort- 
ed ;  but  it  is  no  imputation  to  a  man's  wisdom  to  use  a 
silent  scorn." 

CARISSIMI. 

107.  Carissimi,  a  famous  composer  of  music,  being 
praised  for  the  ease  and  grace  of  his  melodies,  used  to 
exclaim,  Ah,  questofacile  quanto  e  difficile  !  "Ah,  with 
what  difficulty  is  this  ease  acquired  !" 

CARNEADES. 

108.  Tins  philosopher  said,  "  Princes  learn  nothing 
well  but  riding  ;  for  their  tutors  flatter  them,  and  those 
who  contend  with  them  in  games  suffer  themselves  to 
be  beaten  ;  but  a  horse  knows  not  whether  a  prince  or 
a  peasant  be  on  his  back,  and  if  his  rider  cannot  rule 
him,  he  throws  him  without  ceremony." 

ANNIBAL  CARR'ACHI. 

109.  In  a  company  where  Annibal  Carrachi  was 
present,  great  praises  were  bestowed  upon  the  groupe 
of  the  Laocoon,  one  of  the  finest  remaining  specimens 
of  ancient  sculpture  ;  but  this  great  painter  said  not  a 
word  upon  the  subject.  As  all  the  company  expressed 
their  astonishment  at  his  silence,  he  took  up  a  pencil 


40  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

and  sketched  the  outlines  of  the  Laocoon  with  such 
accuracy,  as  if  the  statue  had  been  before  his  eyes,  and 
thus  gave  it  the  highest  proof  of  his  approbation. 
"  Poets,"  said  he,  "  paint  with  words,  and  painters 
speak  with  the  pencil." 

1 10.  Annibal  Carrachi  censured  the  pictures  of  Jo- 
sephin,  a  rival  artist,  who,  desirous  to  be  revenged 
upon  the  critic,  challenged  him  to  fight  with  swords. 
Annibal  took  a  painting-brush,  and  showing  it  to  the 
incensed  Josephin,  said  with  coolness,  "  1  challenge 
you  to  fight  with  this  weapon,  and  with  this  I  mean  to 
conquer  you." 

MR.  JOHN  CARTER. 

111.  Mr.  John  Carter,  the  incumbent  of Bramford 
in  Suffolk,  who  had  a  great  share  of  learning  and  no 
less  modesty  to  conceal  it,  dining  among  others  of  the 
clergy  at  an  alderman's  house  in  Ipswich,  one  of 
the  company  boasted  of  his  own  extraordinary  gen- 
ius and  knowledge,  and  defied  any  one  present  to 
start  a  question  in  theology  or  philosophy,  to  which  he 
could  not  give  a  ready  and  a  satisfactory  answer.  AN 
present  were  silent  for  a  time  ;  and  when  Mr.  Carter 
saw  that  no  one  else  would  accept  this  arrogant  chal- 
lenge, he  said  "  My  plate  furnishes  me  with  a  question 
to  pose  you.  Here  is  a  fish  that  has  always  lived  in 
salt  water  ;  pray  tell  me  why  he  should  come  out  a 
fresh  fish,  and  not  a  salt  one  ?"  This  short  question  put 
the  impertinent  babbler  to  silence,  and  he  was  exposed 
to  the  derision  of  all  the  company. 

RENE  DES  CARTES. 

112.  He  was  a  gentleman  by  birth,  a  soldier  by  pro- 
fession, and  a  philosopher,  as  far  as  the  exercise  of  a 
fertile  imagination  could  make  one.  His  health  was 
delicate,  and  he  took  care  of  it,  without  making  himself 
a  slave   to  precautions.     He  said,  "  Supposing  I  de- 


FLOWERS    OF  WIT.  49" 

ceive  myself,  and  have  not  found  out  a  method  to 
preserve  human  life  ;  I  have  made  a  discovery  which 
is  highly  valuable,  and  that  is,  to  live  free  trom  the 
constant  fear  of  death." 

He  told  sir  Kenelm  Digby,  that  he  was  convinced 
the  life  of  man  could,  by  proper  methods,  be  length- 
ened to  the  age  of  the  patriarchs.  It  was,  however,  a 
bad  comment  on  his  own  text,  that  he  did  not  live  be- 
yond fifty- four  years. 

1 13.  Although  it  was  the  study  of  his  life  to  enlighten 
mankind,  he  couid  not  escape  the  shafts  of  malevolence. 
"  When  any  one  does  me  an  injury,"  said  he,  "'  I 
endeavour  to  elevate  my  soul  so  high,  that  his  malice 
cannot  reach  me." 

114.  The  logic  of  the  schoolmen  appearing  so  en- 
cumbered with  rules,  that  were  either  useless  or  dan- 
gerous, he  employed  himself  in  separating  the  good 
parts  from  the  bad.  "  I  am,"  said  he,  "  like  the  sculp- 
tor, who  labours  to  form  a  Minerva  out  of  a  shapeless 
block  of  marble." 

115.  A  petit-mailre  one  day  seeing  Des  Cartes  at  a 
feast,  said,  "  Do  philosophers  regale  themselves  with 
dainties  ?  "  Why  not  ?"  said  Des  Cartes  ;  "  do  you 
suppose  that  nature  has  provided  all  good  things  for 
none  but  fops  ?" 

CATULUS. 

116.  Ai-LUsroNS  to  proper  names,  for  the  sake  of  a 
joke  or  sarcasm,  were  often  made  by  speakers  at  the 
ancient  Roman  bar  ;  but  they  sometimes  failed  in  their 
effect,  and  subjected  the  assailant  to  a  severe  retort. 
An  orator,  whose  integrity  was  of  a  very  doubtful  na- 
ture, alluding  to  the  name  of  Catulus,  and  the  loud  tone 
in  which  he  pleaded  against  him,  asked  him  why 
he  yelped  so  much.  "  It  is,"  said  Catulus,  "  because  I 
see  a  tlrief." 


50  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

117.  Those  barristers  of  modern  times,  who  have 
taken  similar  liberties  with  proper  names,  have  not 
been  more  successful. 

Dr.  Vansittart  was  retained  in  a  cause  against  ser- 
geant Bearcroft.  The  latter  said,  "  As  the  frequent 
repetition  of  long  names  may  be  tiresome  to  the  court, 
I  shall  beg  leave  to  call  my  learned  friend  opposed  to 
me,  Mr.  Van,"  "  I  have  not  the  least  objection,"  said 
Vansittart,  "  and  shall  beg  leave  to  return  the  compli- 
ment, by  addressing  you  with  the  appropriate  abbre- 
viation of  Mr.  Bear." 

118.  An  indifferent  pleader  asked  Catulus,  "  Have  I 
not  succeeded  in  making  a  very  moving  speech  ?" 
"Certainly,"  said  he,  "for  some  of  your  audience 
pitied  you,  and  the  rest  walked  out  of  court." 

MICHAEL  CERVANTES  SAAVEDRA. 

119.  He  gave  a  proof  that  his  generosity  was  equal 
to  his  genius.  He  was,  in  the  early  part  of  his  life,  for 
some  time  a  slave  in  Algiers,  and  there  he  concerted  a 
a  plan  to  free  himself  and  thirteen  fellow-sufferers. 
One  of  them  traitorously  betrayed  the  design,  and  they 
were  all  conveyed  to  the  dey  of  Algiers  ;  and  he  promis- 
ed them  their  lives  on  condition  they  discovered  the  con- 
triver of  the  plot.  '1  was  that  person,'  exclaimed  the 
intrepid  Cervantes  ;  '  save  my  companions,  and  let  me 
perish.'  The  dey.  struck  with  his  noble  confession, 
spared  his  life,  allowed  him  to  be  ransomed,  and  per- 
mitted him  to  depart  home. 

This  writer  of  an  incomparable  romance,  replete 
with  character,  incident,  pleasantry,  and  humour,  with- 
out any  alloy  of  vulgarity,  obscenity,  or  irreligion, 
which  is  held  in  admiration  throughout  the  civilized 
world,  starved  in  the  midst  of  a  high  reputation,  and 
died  in  penury ! 

IgO.  As  Philip  III.,  king  of  Spain,  was  standing  in 
a  balcony  of  his  palace  at  Madrid,  und  viewing  tho 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  51 

prospects  of  the  surrounding  country,  he  observed 
a  student  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Manzanares, 
reading  a  book,  and  from  time  to  time  breaking  off, 
and  beating  his  forehead  with  extraordinary  tokens  of 
pleasure  and  delight ;  upon  which  the  king  said  to 
those  about  him,  "  That  scholar  is  either  mad,  or  he 
is  reading  Don  Quixote." 

This  anecdote  is  worth  a  volume  of  panegyric. 

The  history  of  Don  Quixote  did  not  wait  for  the  tardy 
fame  of  remote  ages.  It  was  universally  read, and  univer- 
sally admired,as  soon  as  published  ;  and  the  most  emin- 
ent painters',  engravers,  and  sculptors,  vied  with  each 
other  in  representing  the  story  of  the  knight  of  La  Man- 
cha;  yet  the  author  had  not  interest  enough  to  obtain  even 
the  smallest  pension  from  the  court.  Friendless  and 
indigent,  however,  as  Cervantes  was,  he  retained  his 
incomparable  humour  and  iacetiousness  to  the  end  of 
his  life. 

How  happens  it,  that  although  the  manners,  customs, 
proverbs,  and  allusions  in  Don  Quixote  are  so  strictly 
Spanish,  yet  it  is  such  a  general  favourite  with  readers 
of  all  nations  ?  The  answer  seems  to  be,  that  the  delinea- 
tion of  the  characters,  and  the  lively  humour  and  bur- 
lesque, are  so  conformable  to  nature,  that  the  subject 
is  rendered,  by  the  power  of  genius,  universally  inter- 
esting and  pleasant. 

Every  anecdote  of  such  a  genius  as  Cervantes,  how- 
ever trifling  in  itself,  cannot  be  so  to  his  admirers. 

121.  M.  de  Boulay  attended  the  French  ambassador 
to  Spain,  while  Cervantes  was  yet  alive.  He  said, 
that  the  ambassador  one  day  complimented  Cervantes 
on  the  reputation  he  had  acquired  by  his  Don  Quixote, 
and  that  Cervantes  whispered  in  his  ear,  'Had  it  not 
been  for  the  Inquisition,  I  should  have  made  my  book 
much  more  entertaining.' 

MRS.  CHAPONE. 

122.  Mrs.  Chapone  was  asked  the  reason  why  she 
always  came  so  early  to  church.     "  Because,"  said 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 


•he,  '  it  is  part  of  my  religion  never  to  disturb  the  reli- 


gion of  others. 


CHARLES  V., 


The  most  potent  and  widely-ruling  sovereign  of  his 
age,  for  he  was  king  of  Spain,  Naples,  Sicily,  and  Sar- 
dinia, emperor  of  Germany,  and  governor  of  the  Low 
Countries. 

He  was  of  a  cool  and  cautious  temper,  deliberate  in 
his  plans,  and  prompt  in  execution.  This  disposition 
gave  him  a  decided  advantage  over  the  warmth  and 
impetuosity  of  his  more  amiable  rival  Francis  I.,  whom 
he  took  prisoner  at  the  battle  of  Pavia. 

Great  in  the  possession  of  so  much  power,  he  shewed 
himself  still  greater  by  surrendering  it.  He  resigned 
his  crown  to  his  son  Philip  II.,  retired  to  a  monastery 
in  Estremadura  upon  a  pension,  and  lived  the  austere 
life  of  a  monk.  Wishing  effectually  to  wean  himself 
from  the  world,  he  celebrated  his  own  obsequies  with 
the  solemnities  of  a  real  funeral  ;  but  the  awfulness  of 
the  ceremony  made  so  strong  an  impression  upon  his 
mind,  that  he  died  a  few  days  after  he  performed  it. 

123.  A  courtier  very  officiously  offered  to  inform 
Charles  V.  where  one  of  the  most  considerable  of  the 
Spanish  insurgents  in  favour  of  Francis  I.  was  to  be 
found.  Charles,  wishing  by  his  clemency  to  conciliate 
the  minds  of  the  Spaniards,  rather  than  to  exasperate 
them  by  severity,  said,  "  You  had  better  let  him  know 
I  am  here,  than  tell  me  where  he  is." 

124.  The  celebrated  Titian,  the  chief  painter  of  the 
Venetian  school,  told  Charles  V.  that  he  had  the  honour 
to  paint  his  portrait  for  the  third  time.  "  You  mean," 
said  Charles,  "  that  you  give  me  immortality  for  the 
third  time." 

125.  He  was  master  of  several  living  languages, 
He  said,  he  would  speak  Italian  to  the  pope,  Spanish 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  53 

to  his  mother  queen  Jane,  English  to  queen  Catharine 
his  aunt,  Flemish  to  his  friends,  and  French  when  he 
talked  to  himself. 

12G.  Henry  II.  gained  many  advantages  over  Charles 
V.  in  the  advanced  period  of  his  life.  Charles  con- 
soled himself  by  saying,  upon  such  occasions,  "  For- 
tune is  like  a  woman,  she  prefers  young  men  to  old." 

127.  When  Charles  V.  resigned  the  crown  of  Spain 
in  favour  of  Philip  II.,  "  My  son,"  said  he,  "  I  perform 
an  action  to-day,  of  which  antiquity  furnishes  few  pre- 
cedents, and  posterity  will  give  few  imitations." 

128.  He  one  day  observed  veiy  shrewdly  to  an  am- 
bassador of  Henry  VIII.  king  of  England,  "  Your 
master  would  not  give  himself  the  airs  he  does,  were 
it  not  that  his  dominions  are  surrounded  by  a  herring 
pond." 

CHARLES  VIII.  OF  FRANCE. 

129.  Some  of  his  courtiers  advised  him  to  demolish 
the  tomb  of  the  great  John  duke  of  Bedford,  the  regent 
in  the  minority  of  Henry  VI.,  who  had  gained  so  many 
victories  in  France.  "  Let  us  leave,"  said  Charles, 
:'  this  hero  to  remain  in  peace  now  he  is  dead,  who, 
when  he  was  alive,  made  all  Frenchmen  tremble." 

CHARLES  XII.  OF  SWEDEN. 

130.  He  carried  all  the  virtues  of  a  hero  to  excess, 
so  as  to  make  them  as  culpable  as  the  opposite  vices! 
By  his  contempt  of  danger,  and  his  ardent  pursuit  of 
glory,  he  cannot  fail  to  command  the  admiration  of 
mankind.  When  his  horse  was  killed  under  him,  at 
the  battle  of  Narva,  he  leaped  nimbly  upon  a  fresh 
one,  saying  jocosely,  "  These  people  will  keen  me  in 
exercRc  * 


54  FLOWERS    OF  WIT. 

131.  As  he  was  dictating  a  letter  to  hte  secretary, ;  f 
borab  fell  through  the  roof  into  the  next  room   in  th«i  0 
house  where  they  were  sitting.     The  terrified  secretafi 
ry  let  the  pen  drop  from   his  hand.     "  What  is  ,th< 
matter  ?"  said  Charles  calmly.     The  secretary  replied 
"  Ah,  sir,  the  bomb  !"    "  But  what  has  the  bomb  t< 
do,"  said  Charles,  "  with  what  I  am  dictating  to  you  ?— 
go  on." 


132.  A  peasent  threw  himself  at  his  feet,  with  ; 
complaint  against  one  of  his  grenadiers,  that  had  rob 
bed  him  and  his  family  of  their  dinner.  '  Is  i 
true, '  said  Charles  sternly  to  the  grenadier,'  that 
you  have  robbed  this  man  ?'  The  soldier  replied1 
*  Sir,  I  have  not  done  so  much  harm  to  this  man,  a: 
your  majesty  has  done  to  his  master  ;  for  you  hav< 
taken  from  Augustus  a  kingdom,  but  I  have  only  ta 
ken  from  this  peasent  a  dinner.'  Charles  made  th< 
peasent  amends  ;  and  he  pardoned  the  grenadier  fo. 
his  bold  remonstrance,  saying, '  My  friend,  you  wil 
do  well  to  recollect,  that  if  it  took  Poland  from  Au 
gustus,  I  did  not  take  it  for  myself.' 

133.  Although  his  temper  was  severe,  the  follow- 
ing anecdote  will  prove  that  he  was  a  generous  ene- 
my.— He  took  the  fort  of  Dunamond  after  a  smarl 
siege,  as  the  governor,  colonel  Canitz,  held  it  oul 
against  him  for  some  time.  Charles  was  so  well  pleas- 
ed with  his  determined  conduct,  that,  as  he  marched 
out  of  the  fort,  he  said  to  him, '  You  are  my  enemy, 
and  yet  I  love  you  as  well  as  my  best  friends  ;  for 
you  have  behaved  yourself  like  a  brave  soldier  in  de- 
fence of  this  fort  against  my  troops:  and  to  show  you 
that  I  can  esteem  and  reward  valour  even  in  mine  en- 
emies, I  make  you  a  present  of  these  five  thousand 
ducats.' 

134.  He  once  went  early  in  the  morning  to  con- 
sult his  prime  minister.  He  was  in  bed,  and 
Charles   was  obliged  to   wait   till    fee   rose.     Charlr? 


FLOWERS    OF  WIT.  55 

>assed  the  time  in  talking  with  a  soldier,  whom  he 
Dund  in  the  ante-chamber.  At  last  the  minister  appear- 
d,  and  made  many  apologies.  The  soldier,  extreme- 
y  confused  for  having  accosted  his  sovereign  with  so 
nuch  freedom,  threw  himself  at  his  feet,  and  said,  * 
Sire,  forgive  me,  for  I  really  took  you  for  a  man.* 
You  have  done  no  harm,  friend,'  said  the  king  ; 
your  mistake  was  natural  ;  for  nothing  is,  I  assure  you, 
o  much  like  a  man,  as  a  king.' 

135.  One  of  his  old  officers,  who  was  suspected  of 
varice,  complained  to  him,  that  he  conferred  all  his 
avours  upon  Grothusen.  '  I  give  my  money,'  said  he 
>ointedly,  '  to  those  only  who  know  how  to  make  a 
'ood  use    of  it.' 

CHATEANEUF. 

136.  He  was  a  keeper  of  the  seals  in  the  minority  of 
iOuis  XIII.     At  the  age  of  nine,  he  was  introduced   to 

French  bishop,  who  said  he  would  give  him  an 
>range,  if  he  would  tell  him  where  God  is.  '  My  Lord,  ' 
eplied  the  boy, '  I  will  give  you  two,  if  you  will  tell 
ne  where  he  is  not.  " 

THE  GREAT  LORD  CHATHAM. 

137.  His  eloquence  was  of  every  kind,  tranquil, 
vehement,  argumentative,  or  moralising,  as  best  suit- 
d  the  occasion.  In  1764,  he  maintained  the  illegal- 
ly of  general  warrants  with  great  energy  in  the  house 
f  commons.  '  By  the  British  constitution,'  said  he, 
every  man's  house  is  his  castle  ;  not  that  is  surround- 
d  with  walls  and  battlements,  for  it  may  be  a  straw- 
milt  shed.  Every  wind  of  heaven  may  blow  around  it 
11  the  elements  of  nature  may  enter  in  ;  but  the  king 
annot,  the  king  dares  not.' 


5G  FLOWERS  OF  WIT- 

LORD  CHESTERFIELD. 


> 


138.  If  he  was  the  author  of  the  Economy  of  Hu- 
man Life,  he  made  the  world  some  reparation  for  the 
laxity  of  his  moral  and  religious  principles,  discover- 
able in  his  Letters  to  his  son.  Dr.  Johnson  said, 
'that  although  he  might  be  a  wit  among  lords,  he  was 
only  a  lord  among  wits.'  That  he  deserved  a  higher 
character  for  his  powers  of  repartee,  the  following  i 
stances,  among  many  others,  are  sufficient  to  prove. 

139.  Lord  Chesterfield  complained  very  much  at 
an  inn  were  he  dined,  that  the  plates  and  dishes  were 
very  dirty.  The  waiter,  with  a  degree  of  pertne.ss, 
observed,' that  every  one  must  eat  a  peck  of  dirt  before 
he  dies.  'That  may  be  true, '  said  lord  Chester- 
field ;  'but  no  one  is  obliged  to  eat  it  all  at  a  meal.1' 

140.  'I  cannot  conceive.'  said  a  nobleman  to  lord 
Chesterfield,'  '  how  you  manage  your  affairs ;  for 
though  your  estate  is  smaller  than  mine,  you  make  a 
much  more  splendid  figure  than  I  do.'  'My  lord, ' 
said  Chesterfield,  *  I  have  a  place.'  '  Pray  wha 
place  V    '  I  am  my  own  steward.' 

141.  On  the  1st  of  July  it  was  the  custom  for  the 
Protestants  in  Ireland  to  appear  at  the  court  of  the 
lord  lieutenant  with  orange- coloured  ribbons,  in  com- 
memoration of  the  battle  of  the  Boyne  gained  by  king 
William  III.  When  the  earl  of  Chesterfield  was  lord 
lieutenant,  the  observed  miss  Ambrose,  a  papist,  a 
very  beautiful  girl,  wearing  one  of  those  ribbonds. 
The  instant  it  caught  his  eye,  he  walked  up  to  hcr> 
and  addressed  her  in  the  following  lines  : 

'Say  lovely  Tory,  what's  the  jest, 
Of  wearing  orange  on  your  breast? 
Since  that  same  breast  betraying  show1: 
The  whiteness  of  the  rebel  irastf 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  Jt 

142.  Dryden's  translation  of  Virgil  being  commend- 
ed by  a  reverend  prelate,  lord  Chesterfield  observed, 

The  original  is  excellent,  but  every  thing  suffers  by 
a  translation,  except  a  bishop." 

143.  The  late  queen  hinted  to  lord  Chesterfield  her 
design  of  shutting  up  St.  James'  Park,  and  turning  it 
into  a  garden,  and  asked  him  what  he  thought  the  altera- 
tion would  cost.    His  reply  was,  "  only  three  crowns  I" 

THE  ABBE  CHOISY, 

Those  who  have  travelled  into  far  distant  countries 
are  often  listened  to  with  peculiar  suspicion  ;  but  it 
does  not  follow,  that  they  violate  truth,  and  propagate 
fiction,  because  their  narratives  differ  from  our  expe- 
rience, or  that  our  customs  and  language  are  the  just 
criteria  of  all  others. 

144.  The  abbe  Choisy,  when  he  returned  from  Si- 
am,  where  he  had  attended  the  chevalier  de  Chaumont, 
ambassador  from  Louis  XI V.,  was  teased  with  num- 
berless questions  by  the  courtiers  as  to  what  he  had 
seen  in  so  remote  a  country.  The  king  interrogated 
him  much,  and  asked  him  what  they  called  to  eat  in 
the  Siam  language.  The  abbe  said,  that  the  Siam 
word  was  kin.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  after,  the  king 
asked  the  abbe  what  was  the  Siam  word  to  drink,  and 
the  abbe  again  said,  kin.  "  I  thought,"  said  the 
king,  "  you  just  now  told  me  that  word  signified  to  cat." 
"  So  I  did,  sir,"  said  the  abbe  without  hesitation. 
"  Kin  kaou  means  to  drink  wine,  and  kin  nam  to  drink 
water."  "The  abbe  is  a  man  of  ready  invention," 
said  the  king,  smiling,  **  and  is  very  adroit  in  coin- 
ing a  language." 

A  learned  man,  who  understood  the  Siam  language 
well,  has  asserted,  that  the  abbe  de  Choisy  was  not  at 
all  indebted  to  his  invention,  but  spoke  from  his  real 
knowledge. 


53  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

MR.  CHURCHILL. 

145.  The  abbe  Kaynall  came  with  some  other 
Frenchmen  to  visit  Horace  Walpole,  at  Strawberry 
Hill.  They  were  standing  at  a  window  looking  at  the 
prospect  of  the  Thames,  which  they  found  flat :  and 
one  of  them  said  in  French,  not  thinking  they  were 
overheard,  "  Every  thing  in  England  only  serves  to 
recommend  France  to  us  the  more."  Mr.  Churchill 
instantly  said,  "  Gentlemen,  when  the  Cherokees  were 
in  this  country,  they  could  eat  nothing  but  train  oil." 

CHURCHILL  THE  POET. 

146.  One  person  abusing  another,  in  the  company 
of  Churchill  the  poet,  said,  he  was  so  extremely  stu- 
pid, that  if  you  said  a  good  thing  he  could  not  under- 
stand it.  "  Pray,  sir,"  said  Churchill,  "  did  you  ever 
try  him?" 

CHRISTINA  QUEEN  OF  SWEDEN. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  the  great  Gustavus  Adol- 
phus,  and  inherited,  with  his  dominions,  much  of  the 
vigour  of  his  character  ;  yet  she  wanted  tenderness 
and  sensibility  to  soften  the  sternness  of  her  virtues, 
so  that  she  was  respected  rather  than  beloved. 

She  exemplified  the  varium  et  mutabile  attributed 
by  Virgil  to  her  sex.  Fickle  in  all  things,  except  her 
love  of  learning  and  scholars,  she  was  always  chang- 
ing place,  and  no  where  content  to  reside.  The  most 
remarkable  instance  of  her  fickleness  was,  that  after 
she  had  resigned  the  crown  of  Sweden,  she  intrigued 
for  that  of  Poland. 

147.  During  her  reign,  she  had  the  glory  to  estab- 
lish peace  in  her  kingdom.  As  she  was  single,  her 
nobles  pressed  her  to  many,  but  she  put  a  stop  to  their 
importunities,  by  saying,"  I  had  much  rather  nomi- 
nate a  good  king  as  my  successor,  who  is  capable  of 
holding  with  glory  the  reins  of  government.    Do  not 


FLOWERS    OF    Vftil  69 

herereibre  compel  me  to  marry  ;  for  was  I  to  have  a 
son,  1  might  be  just  as  likely  to  have  a  Nero  as  ^n 
Augustus/' 

148.  She  resigned  the  crown  of  swede n,  embraced 
the  popish  religion,  and  publicly  abjured  the  Luthe- 
ran faith  at  Inspruck.  The  same  evening  a  comedy 
was  acted.  This  occasioned  the  Protestants,  who  did 
not  approve  of  her  change  of  religion,  or  did  not 
think  it  sincere,  to  say,  "  It  is  but  justice,  that  the  pa- 
pists should  give  Christina  a  comedy  in  the  evening, 
in  return  for  her  farce  in  the  morning." 

CICERO. 

This  greatest  of  all  Roman  orators  who  by  the  pow- 
ers of  his  eloquence  confounded  the  traitor  Cataline, 
and  made  Julius  Caesar  tremble  even  when  invested 
with  the  sovereign  command  of  Rome,  was  remarka- 
ble for  sallies  of  facetiousness  and  felicity  of  retort. 

149.  Cicero  was  of  low  origin,  and  the  mother  of 
Metellus  was  a  woman  of  a  licentious  character.  Me- 
tellus  said  to  Cicero,  "  Dare  you  tell  yom  fathers 
name  r"  Cicero  answered,  "  Can  your  mother  tell 
yours  ?" 

150.  Cicero  saw  Lentulus  his  son-in-law,  a  man  of 
very  low  stature,  with  a  very  long  sword  by  his  side. 
He  called  out,  "  Who  has  tied  my  son-in-law  to  that 
sword  ?" 

151.  The  Sphinx,  it  may  be  recollected,  was  sup- 
posed by  the  antients  to  have  been  the  interpreter  of 
riddles.  Hortensius,  the  great  Roman  pleader,  had  a 
present  made  him  of  a  curious  and  valuable  figure 
of  the  Sphinx  as  a  bribe,  by  Verres,  who  was  tried 
for  his  bad  government  of  Scicily.  Hortensius,  plead- 
ing for  Verres  against  Cicero,  said,  "  Your  allusions 
are  so  obscure,  that  1  want  some  one  to  explain  your 


60  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

riddles."  "  You  cannot  be  at  a  loss  on  that  account," 
replied  Cicero,  M  as  you  have  the  Sphinx  at  your 
house." 

152.  When  Metellus  said,  that  Cicero  had  killed 
more  persons  as  a  witness,  than  he  had  saved  as  a 
pleader  ;  Cicero  answered,  "  True,  for  my  honesty  is 
greater  than  my  eloquence." 

153.  Cicero  said  of  Caninius  Kevilius,  who  continu 
ed  consul  only  ior  one  day,  "  We  have  had  a  con- 
sul ot  such  great  vigilance,  that  he  has  not  slept  a 
single  night  during  the   whole  time  he   has  been   in 

office." 

154.  After  the  battle  of  Pharsalia,  in  which  Pom<- 
pey  was  defeated,  one  of  his  generals  said  to  Cicero,, 

■  We  need  not  despair,  as  we  have  the  eagles  of  sev- 
eral legions  still  remaining."  "  This  would  be  an 
advantage,"  replied  Cicero,  "  if  we  were  fighting 
with  crows." 

155.  Fabia  Dolabella  said  she  was  thirty  years  of 
age.  "  This  must  be  true,1'  said  Cicero  ;  '*  for  1  have 
heard  her  say  so  many  times  in  the  course  of  the  last 
twenty  years." 

156.  Did  the  author  of  the  following  -lines  catch 
the  idea  from  Cicero,  or  was  it  original  ? 

Verses  on  a  celebrated  Cambridge  Beauty ',  Miss  Mol- 
ly Fowle,  by  the  Rev.  Hans  de  Veil. 

"  Is  Molly  Fowle  immortal  ?  No. 

Yes,  but  she  is  ;  I'll  prove  her  so. 
Sh'es  fifteen  now,  and  was,  I  know, 
Fifteen,  full  fifteen  years  ago." 

ANN  CLIFFORD.  COUNTESS  OK 
PEMBROKE. 

157.  She  showed  her  high  spirit  and  even  her  con- 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  Gl 

tempt  lor  Oliver  Cromwell,  when  he  was  in  the  pleni- 
tude of  his  power.  She  found  herself  under  the 
necessity  of  recovering  some  of  her  property  by  a  law- 
suit. Cromwell  offered  his  mediation  ;  but  she  an- 
swered loftily,  she  would  never  accept  it,  whilst  there 
was  any  law  to  be  found  in  England.  M  What !"  said 
she,  "  does  he  imagine  that  I,  who  refused  to  sub- 
mit to  king  James,  will  yield  to  him  ?" 

158.  Her  dislike  to  Cromwell  was  not  founded  on 
party,  but  on  principle.  She  had  the  same  dislike  to 
Charles  II.,  when  she  became  acquainted  with  the 
spirit  of  his  government.  On  being  pressed  by  her 
friends,  some  time  after  the  Restoration,  to  go  tocourt  : 
"  By  no  means,"  said  she,  "  unless  I  may  be  allowed 
to  wear  blinkers." 

159.  She  was  the  most  heroic,  noble,  generous, 
economical,  virtuous,  and  discreel  lady  of  her  age. 
Bishop  Rainbow  summed  up  her  character  with  res- 
pect t©  her  prudence  and  discretion,  by  calling  her 
"  A  perfect  mistress  of  forecast  and  aftercast." 

DR.  CLARKE. 

160.  Hume  said,  that  Butler's  Analogy  was  the  best 
defence  of  Christianity  he  had  ever  seen.  Queen 
Caroline  is  said  to  have  read  some  part  of  this  pro- 
found work  every  day  at  breakfast.  She  asked  Dr. 
Clarke  what  he  knew  of  Butler.  Dr.  Clarke  told  her 
he  was  residing  with  his  family  upon  a  small  liviug  in 
Kent.  The  queen  expressed  her  surprise,  and  said 
she  thought  he  was  dead.  '  No,  madam,'  said  Dr. 
Clarke,  %  he  is  not  dead,  but  he  is  buried.' 

MR.  CLIFTON. 

16t.  King  James  said  to  Mr.  Clifton  one  day,  '  I 
do  not  know  how  it  is,  but  I  never  knew  a  modest  man 
make  his  way  at  court.'  *  Please  your  majesty,* 
asked  Mr.  Clifton,  *  whose  fault  is  that  V 


6£  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

COLLINS. 

162.  This  sweet  poet  was  much  attached  to  a 
young  lady,  who  was  born  the  day  before  him,  and 
who  did  not  return  his  passion.  4  Yours  is  a  hard 
case.'  said  a  friend.  '  It  is  so,  indeed,'  said  Collins, 
'  for  I  came  into  the  world  a  day  after  the  /air.' 

THE  PRINCE  OF  CONDE. 

163.  An  officious  friend  showed  the  prince  of  Con- 
d£  some  libels  written  against  him,  in  which  he  was 
described  as  acting  and  speaking  things  that  were  false, 
1  These  rascals,'  said  he,  '  make  me  talk  and  act  as 
they  would  do  if  they  were  in  my  place.' 

CAPTAIN  JAMES  COOK. 

164.  He  married  a  young  lady  to  whom  he  had 
been  guardian.  Preparing  soon  after  for  one  of  his 
voyages,  he  said,  on  taking  leave  of  his  friends,  *  The 
spring  of  my  life  was  stormy,  the  summer  has  been 
laborious  ;  but  1  leave  in  my  native  country  a  fund  of 
happiness  to  enrich  the  autumn  and  cheer  the  winter 
of  my  days.'  Little  did  this  adventurous  navigator 
think,  when  he  expressed  himself  in  this  beautiful 
manner,  that  death  would  suddenly  arrest  his  progress 
at  the  extremity  of  the  globe,  and  frustrate  the  fondest 
hopes  of  his  heart ! 

ANTHONY  ASHLEY  COOPER. 

165.  When  Mr.  Anthony  Ashley  Cooper  was  mem- 
ber for  Pool  in  Dorsetshire,  he  gave  a  very  singular 
instance  of  his  humanity  and  integrity.  Before  the 
revolution,  and  for  some  time  after,  prisoners  accused 
of  high  treason  were  not  permitted  to  be  heard  by 
counsel,  unless  a  special  matter  of  law  was  stated  to 
the  court.     A  bill  was  at  length  presented  to  the  house 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  S3 

of  commons,  to  abolish  this  prohibition  ;  and,  notwith- 
standing the  equity  of  such  an  intended  law,  it  met 
with  great  opposition. 

When  the  bill  was  brought  into  the  house,  Mr.  Coo- 
per had  prepared  a  speech  in  support  of  it  ;  but  when 
he  stood  up  to  read  it,  he  was  so  agitated,  that  he  was 
unable  to  proceed.  The  speaker  observing  his  confu- 
sion, recommended  him  to  take  time,  and  not  be  dis- 
couraged ;  upon  which  encouragement  Mr.  Cooper 
recovered  himself,  and  spoke  as  follows  : — 

Mr.  Speaker — *  If  I,  who  rise  only  to  give  my  opin- 
ion upon  the  bill  now  depending,  am  so  confounded 
that  I  am  unable  to  express  the  least  part  of  what  I 
propesed  to  say,  what  must  be  the  condition  of  that 
man,  who,  without  any  assistance  whatever,  is  obliged 
to  plead  for  his  life,  whilst  under  the  dreadful  appre- 
hensions of  being  deprived  of  it  ?' 

This  emphatic  speech  had  such  an  effect  upon  the 
house,  that  the  bill  passed  without  opposition. 

On  the  death  of  his  father  he  became  earl  of  Shaftes- 
bury. His  work  entitled  '  Characteristics'  has  acquir- 
ed for  him  the  reputation  of  a  philosopher.  Therein 
he  argues  to  inculcate  these  two  principles  ;  that  Di- 
vine Providence  administers  all  affairs  for  universal 
good  ;  and  that  man  is  made  by  that  Providence  a  so- 
cial animal,  who  can  only  find  his  proper  end  in  the 
pursuit  of  moral  virtue. 

Thus  he  echoes  the  tenets  of  the  Socratic  school  ; 
but  certainly  he  does  not  convey  them  in  the  manner 
either  of  Xenophon  or  Plato  ;  for  his  style  is  so  per- 
plexed and  verbose,  as  to  throw  a  veil  of  obscurity 
over  his  ideas. 

PETER  CORNEILLE. 

He  was  the  fatherof  the  French  drama.  In  the  force 
hy  which  he  is  impelled,   and  the  fire  by  which  he  is 


C4  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

animated  when  he  describes  the  passions,  he  is  mc 
like  Shakspeare,  than  any  of  the  French  dramatists 
He  is  rarely  pathetic,  but  often  sublime.  The  bes 
edition  of  his  works  is  enriched  with  the  notes  of  Vol 
taire. 

166.  When  a  friend  informed  him  that  the  critic 
threatened  to  publish  some  very  severe  remarks  on  hi 
tragedy  of  Horatius,  he  said,  alluding  to  the  trial  c 
that  hero,  '  I  am  very  little  alarmed  at  their  menace 
for  you  may  recollect,  that  although  Horatius  was  con 
demned  by  the  decemviri,  he  was  acquitted  by  th- 
people;' 

FERNANDO  CORTEZ. 

167.  A  Spaniard  of  good  family.  He  subdued  th< 
kingdom  of  Mexico,  but  not  without  exercising  grea 
cruelties  against  the  sovereign  and  people  of  that  coun 
try.  When  he  returned  to  Spain,  he  was  coolly  re 
ceived  by  the  emperor,  Charles  V.  One  day  he  sud 
denly  presented  himself  to  that  monarch.  '  Who  ar« 
you  V  said  the  emperor,  haughtily.  '  The  man, 
said  Cortez,  as  haughtily,  '  who  has  given  you  mor< 
provinces  than  your  ancestors  left  you  cities.' 

.   COTON. 

'168.  Henry  IV.  of  France  asked  the  Jesuit  Cote 
'  Would  you    discover  to  me  the  confession  of  a  ms 
who  told  you  he   was  determined  to  assassinate  me  .?. 
1  No,  I  could  not,'   said  Coton,    '  neither  in  honour 
nor  conscience  ;  but  I  would  prevent  his  malice,  b] 
placing  myself  between  him  and  you.' 

LORD  CHANCELLOR  COWPER. 

169.  Henrietta  Lady  Luxborough    remarked,  * 
remember  once  to  have  heard  lord  chancellor  Cowpe 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  65 

iy,  '  If  every  body  knew  as  much  of  the  law  as  I  do, 
ley  would  (were  the  cause  ever  so  good)  give  up  half, 
ither  than  embark  in  our  courts.' ' 

CREBILLON. 

170.  A  friend  asked  him  why  he  had  introduced 
>  much  of  the  terrific  into  his  tragedies.  '  I  had  no 
Iternative,'  said  he  :  '  Corneille  has  taken  the  heav- 
ns,  Racine  the  earth,  and  I  had  nothing  left  me  but 
le  infernal  regions.' 

171.  In  retirement  he  formed  the  subjects  of  his 
lays,  and  composed  them  without  writing  them  down, 
11  he  had  completed  all  the  parts.  One  day,  when  he 
as  lost  in  a  tragical  reverie,  some  one  abruptly  enter- 
I.  *  Do  not  interrupt  me,'  said  he, '  I  am  overwhelm- 
1  in  business:  lam  this  moment  engaged  in  killing 
le  minister  for  being  a  rascal,  and  banishing  another 
r  being  a  fool.' 

172.  He  was  asked,  why  he  was  fond  of  being 
irrounded  by  a  number  of  dogs.  *  I  have  always 
een  so,'  said  he,  '  since  I  was  thoroughly  well  ac- 
uainted  with  mankind.' 

THE  CRITICS. 

173.  When  prejudice  once  prevails,  reason  tries  in 
^in  to  recover  her  rights.  Names,  upon  almost  all 
:casions,  carry  greater  weight  than  things.  When 
je  fables  of  de  la  Mothe  first  appeared,  it  was  the 
shion  to  speak  very  unfavourably  of  them.  At  a  sup- 
er given  by  the  prince  of  Vendome,  the  abbe  Chau- 
eu,  the  bishop  of  Lucon,  the  abbe  Cointin,  and  other 
ighly  reputed  critics  were  present,  and  they  were  all 
?ry  merry  at  the  expense  of  de  la  Mothe,  and  oppres- 
?d  the  poor  author  with  their  censures.  Voltaire,  who 
plated  the  anecdote,  was  one  of  the  party.  '  Gentle- 
ien,'   said  he,   with  an  air  of  gravity,  '  you  are  all 

6 


t>(>  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

perfectly  right  ;  you  judge  according  to  the  rules 
the  most  correct  criticism,  and  of  course  are  sensib 
what  an  infinite  difference  there  is  between  the  sty 
of  de  la  Mothe  and  that  of  la  Fontaine  ! — A  propc 
Have  you  seen  the  last  edition  of  the  Fables  of  th1 
incomparable  writer  ?'  '  No,'  said  they.  '  Are  y< 
not.'  continued  Voltaire,  c  acquainted  with  that  mc 
beautiful  of  all  the  fables  of  Fontaine,  lately  discove 
ed  among  the  papers  of  the  duchess  of  Bouiilon 
He  read  the  fable  to  them.  They  heard  him  with  loo 
of  delight,  and  expressed  their  praise  of  it  in  the  mc' 
rapturous  terms.  '  This  is  nature  itself;  what  exqi 
site  simplicity  !  what  captivating  grace  !'  *  Gentl 
men,'  said  Voltaire,  with  a  triumphant  sneer,  '  let  g 
undeceive  you  ;  the  fable  you  thus  extol  was  not  \vr 
ten  by  Fontaine,  but  by  de  la  Mothe  !  V 

OLIVER  CROMWELL. 

174.  Lord  Clarendon  thus  concludes  his  chara 
ter  :  '  He  had  some  good  qualities,  which  have  caus< 
the  memory  of  some  men  in  all  ages  to  be  celebratec 
and  he  will  be  looked  upon  by  posterity  as  a  bra 
rvicked  maw.' 

175.  When  he  made  his  public  entry  into  Lontio1 
his  companions  remarked  to  him  the  great  concourse 
people  who  came  from  all  parts  to  see  him.     '  The 
would  be  just  as  many,'  said  he,  '  if  I  was  going  .to  tl 
scaffold. ' 

176.  He  wore  the  mask  of  hypocrisy  to  the  last.-j 
When  he  was  nearly  at  the  point  of  death,  he  gave  oi 
that  God  had  revealed  to  him  things  to  come,  and  th 
he  should  recover.  He  confessed  to  his  friends  that  th 
was  only  a  pretended  revelation.  '  If  I  recover,' 
he,  '  the  silly  people  will  think  me  a  prophet  ;  and 
I  die,  what  does  it  signify  if  they  think  me  an  impc 
tor  ?' 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  67 


RICHARD  CROMWELL. 

The  eldest  son  of  Oliver  Cromwell.  He  was  a  man 
Tan  excellent  disposition,  and  remarkable  for  his  grav- 
y  and  unaffected  piety.  He  is  said  to  have  pleaded 
1  his  knees  before  his  inflexible  father  for  the  life  of 
harles  I-  He  succeeded  to  the  protectorship,  and 
obly  refused  the  advice  given  to  him  by  some  of  his 
ouncil  to  retain  his  power  at  the  expense  of  blood. — 
Fe  retired  to  France  for  some  years,  and  returned  to 
ngland  after  the  Restoration,  when  party  animosities 
id  subsided. 

177.  When  nearly  eighty  years  of  age,  he  went  to 
le  bar  of  the  house  of  lords.  There  lord  Bathurst 
onversed  with  him,  and  asked  him  how  long  it  was 
ince  he  had  been  there   before.     '  Never,   my  lord/ 

id  he,  '  since  I  sat  in  that  chair,'  pointing  to  the 
irone. 

He  spent  many  of  his  last  years  in  obscurity  at  Ches- 
unt.     He  gave  a  striking  and  laudable  proof  how  much 

tirement  and  peace  are  to  be  preferred  to  the  splen- 
our  and  pomp  of  power.  He  enjoyed  sound  health  to 
le  last ;  and  was  so  strong  and  active,  that,  at  the  age 
f  fourscore,  he  was  seen  to  gallop  his  horse  for  many 
liles  together.     He  died  in  1712,  in  his  86th  year. 

HENRY  CROMWELL. 

178.  The  youngest  son  of  Oliver  Cromwell.  Like 
is  brother,  he  was  a  man  of  an  excellent  character, 
ell  disposed,  and  unambitious.  He  was  appointed 
y  his  father  lord  lieutenant  of  Ireland,  and  acquitted 
imself  in  that  government  with  great  credit.     He  re- 

oiced  in  the  Restoration,  and  received  some  favours 
rom  Charles  II.,  for  which  he  was  indebted  to  lord 
Clarendon.  He  declared  to  his  brother  Richard,  "  I 
vill  rather  submit  to  any  sufferings  with  a  good  name, 
ban  be  the  greatest  man  upon  earth  without  onp  \" 


68  FLOWERS    OF    WIT* 

What  a  virtuous  declaration  !  what  a  just  and  seve: 
censure  of  the  guilty  ambition  of  his  father  ! 

ROBINSON  CRUSOE. 

179.  The  fascination  of  this  extraordinary  work 
not  limited  to  the  juvenile  reader.  Mr.  Tawney, 
respectable  alderman  of  Oxford,  used  to  read  Robinsc 
Crusoe  through  every  year  with  great  delight,  an' 
thought  every  part  of  it  as  much  matter  of  fact  as  h 
bibie.  A  friend  at  last  asked  him,  how  he  could  b 
such  a  child  as  to  credit  a  story  so  marvellous.  '  Thi 
original  Crusoe,'  added  he,  '  was  Alexander  Selkirk 
and  Daniel  de  Foe,  an  ingenious  writer,  embellishe 
the  plain  story  of  his  shipwreck  upon  the  island  ( 
Juan  Fernandez,  with  almost  all  the  adventures  an 
remarks  you  so  much  admire.'  '  Your  information 
said  the  alderman  with  a  sigh,  '  may  be  correct,  bi 
I  had  rather  you  had  withheld  it,  for  by  thus  undc 
ce(iving  me,  you  have  deprived  me  of  one  of  the  greal 
est  pleasures  of  my  old  age.' 

DAGUESSEAU. 

180.  When  he  was  high-chancellor  of  France,  a  se 
vere  law-suit  was  carried  on  between  the  physician 
and  the  surgeons.  Mr.  Peyronie  pleaded  ably,  ant 
requested  the  chancellor  to  order  a  high  wall  to  b 
built  between  the  hospitals  of  the  two  contending  par 
ties.  *  But  if  we  do  build  the  wall,'  said  the  chan 
cellor,  '  on  which  side  of  it  shall  we  place  the  sick  ? 

D'ALEMBERT. 

181.  When  Frederick  the  Great  of  Prussia  met  hin 
at  Wesel,  after  the  peace  of  1763,  he  embraced  him 
and  the  first  question  he  asked  this  celebrated  mathe 
matician,  was,  Whether  mathematics  furnish  any  meth 
ods  to  calculate  probabilities  in  politics.     D'Alember! 


FLOWERS    OF  WIT.  69 

:piicd,  That  he  must  plead  ignorance  of  such  meth- 
ds  ;  but  if  any  existed,  they  were  rendered  totally 
seless  by  the  monarch  who  asked  the  question. 

DANTE  THE  POET. 

82.  He  was  a  man  of  a  warm  temper  and  a  lofty 
pirit  ;    and  had  good  qualities  sufficient  to  procure 

im  great  friends,  but  he  had  not  discretion  enough  to 
etain  their  favour.  A  prince  of  Verona,  who  had 
aken  him   under  his  protection,  after  he  was  driven 

om  his  own  country,  observed  to  him,  how  strange  a 
ustom  it  was  for  persons  of  rank  to  keep  a  domestic, 
ailed  a  fool,  on  purpose  to  be  laughed  at.  •  The  fool,' 
aid  he,  '  pleases,   and  is  a  great  favorite  ;  but  a  wise 

lan  is  slighted,  and    even   treated  with  contempt.5 

This  custom,'  said  Dante",  of  you  men  of  rank  is  not 
trange  at  all,  for  a  similitude  of  mind  is  the  basis  of 

iendship.' 

MARQUIS  D'ARGENSON. 

133.  '  True  lovers  never  count  by  vulgar  time. 
This  assertion  was  well  illustrated  by  the  marquis 
I'Argenson,  who,  in  the  spirit  of  genuine  gallantry, 
aid  to  a  lady  whom  he  courted,  '  When  I  am  in  your 
ompany  the  hours  are  as  short  as  minutes  ;  when  ab- 
ent,  the  minutes  are  as  long  as  hours.' 

Sill  WILLIAM  DAWES. 

An  excellent  divine  at  the  close  of  the  seventeenth 
;entury.  He  was  remarkable  for  his  good  nature,  and 
bndness  for  a  pun. 

184.  mien  archbishop  of  York,  his  clergy  dining 
vith  him  the  first  time  after  he  had  lost  his  lady,  he 
old  them  he  feared  they  did  not  find  things  in  so  good 
>rder  as  they  used  to  be  in  the  time  of  poor  Mary  ; 
md  added  with  a  deep  sigh,  she  was  indeed  Mare 
6* 


70  FLOWERS  OF    WIT. 

Pacificum.  A  curate,  who  well  recollected  how  inaj, 
plicable  the  epithet  was,  observed,  *  Yes,  my  lord 
but  she  was  Mare  Mortuum  first.'  The  archbisho 
was  so  pleased  with  the  allusion,  that  within  two  montl 
he  gave  him  a  living. 

DEMONAX. 

Demonax  was  a  Cretan  philosopher  :  he  resemble 
Socrates  in  his  mode  of  thinking,  and  Diogenes  in  h 
way  of  life. 

185.  He  was  asked,  if  it  was  allowable  for  wise  me 
to  drink  wine.  '  Surely,'  said  he,  '  you  cannot  thin 
that  nature  made  grapes  only  for  foo^s.' 

DERRICK.- 

He  was  for  many  years  master  of  the  ceremonies 
Bath. 

186.  A  young  spendthrift  saying  in  public  corr* 
pany,  that  he  remembered  every  thing  he  lent,  hi 
nothing  that  he  borrowed.  '  Why  then,  sir,'  observ 
ed  Derrick,  '  it  may  be  very  justly  said,  you  have  ios 
half  your  memory.' 

187.  A  gentleman,  who  had  had  several  wives,  pai< 
his  addresses  to  a  widow  lady  at  Bath  ;  and  it  being 
remarked  that  he  was  a  great  duellist, "  Then,"  sai< 
Derrick,  "  the  match  will  be  the  more  a  propos,  fo 
the  lady  has  killed  her  man." 

DESMAH1S, 

A  French  poet  and  dramatist  of  considerable  note 
He  was  no  less  excellent  for  his  talents  as  a  writer 
than  his  amiable  qualities  as  a  man. 

188.  He  hated    quarrels  between  men  of  letters 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  71 

ome  person  observed  to  him,  that  the  number  of  men 
r  letters  was  very  small  in  comparison  with  the  bulk 
f  mankind.  '  If  harmony,'  said  he,  '  reigned  among 
lem,  small  as  their  number  is,  they  would  lead  the 
ublic  opinion,  and  be  the  masters  of  the  world.' 

189.  '  When  a  friend  laughs,'  said  he,  '  it  is-  for 
im  to  disclose  the  subject  of  his  joy  ;  when  he  weeps, 

is  for  me  to  discover  the  cause  of  his  sorrow.' 

190.  He  expressed  himself  fully  gratified  with  ele- 
ant  and  refined  society,  and  no  feeling  of  envy  or  am- 
otion embittered  his  enjoyments.  '  Content,'  said 
e, '  to  pass?  my  time  in  the  circle  of  friendship,  form 
d  by  the  most  illustrious  men  of  the  age,  I  have  m> 
nxiety  to  be  placed  near  them  in  the  temple  of  fame.' 

DIOGENES. 

Diogenes,  as  a  disciple  of  Antisthenes  the  founder 
if  the  Cynic  sect  of  philosophers,  assumed  the  privi- 
ege  of  saying  and  doing  whatever  he  pleased.  In  al- 
usion  to  the  name  of  cynic,  it  may  be  said  of  him, 
hat  he  did  not  fawn  like  a  spaniel,  but  barked  like 
i  mastiff.  What  was  the  elevation  of  his  mind  or  his 
ndifference  to  wealth,  pomp,  and  power,  may  be  in- 
erred  from  his  reply  to  Alexander  the  Great  ;  and 
-vhat  was  the  high  estimation  in  which  that  monarch 
:ield  him,  is  equally  clear  from  the  same  conversation. 

191.  Alexander  the  Great  saw  Diogenes  sitting  at 
the  entrance  of  his  tub,  and  basking  in  the  sun.  '  What 
benefit  can  I  confer  upon  you  ?'  said  the  potent  sove- 
reign. *  Stand,'  said  Diognes,  'out  of  the  way,  and 
prevent  me  not  from  enjoying  the  sun-shine.'  Admir- 
ing the  independent  spirit  that  suggested  this  reply, 
Alexander  said,  'If  I  were  not  Alexander,  I  should 
wish  to  be  Diogenes.' 

192.  Diogenes  being  asked,  of  what  beast  the  bite 


7$  FtOWERS    OF    WlT 

most  dangerous,  answered,    *  Of  wild  beasts,  il|ty 


bite  of  a  slanderer  ;  of  tame,  that  of  a  flatterer 


193.  When  Aristippus  returned  from  the   court 
Dionysius,  he  said  to  Diogenes,  *  If  you  knew  ho 
to  flatter  kings,  you  need  not   live  upon  herbs.'    1 
which  Diogenes  replied,    '  It  you  knew  how  to  live  ( 
herbs,  you  need  not  flatter  kings.' 


r 

SOI 


194.  A  sophist,  wishing  to  give  a  specimen  of  h 
acute  reasoning  to  Diogenes,  argued  with  him  thus 
1  What  I  am  thou  art  not.'  *  Granted,'  said  Diogene 
The  sophist  proceeded,  '  I  am  a  man,  therefore  the 
art  not  a  man.'  The  cynic  replied, '  Begin  from  rip 
and  I  will  not  dispute  the  soundness  ot  your  concii 
sion.' 

DIONYSIUS  II. 


t 


The  cruelty  of  his  disposition  was  not  allayed  by  th 
presence  of  the  great  philosopher  Plato,  whom  he  ir 
vited  to  his  court.  He  showed,  however,  in  his  revers 
of  fortune,  the  benefit  he  bad  derived  from  his  instruc 
tions. 

195.  Soon  after  he  was  expelled  from  Syracuse, 
Greek  asked  him  with  a  sneer,  *  Of  what  service  i 
the  philosophy  of  Plato  to  you  now  V  '  It  assists  me, 
he  replied,  'to  beholdithe  vicissitudes  of  fortune  withoii 
astonishment,  and  to  suffer  her  severities  without  com 
plaint.' 

19G.  Philip  king  of  Macedon  asked  htm,  with  | 
sneer,  how  his  father  the  elder  Dionysius  had  founc 
Jeisure  to  compose  odes  and  tragedies.  '  You  seem, 
said  Dionysius,  '  to  make  a  difficulty  of  wlfcit  is  easj 
to  be  explained.  He  composed  them  in  those  hours 
which  you  and  I  consume  in  drinking  and  gaming.' 

197.  After  his  expulsion  from  Syracuse,  a  Coiin- 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  to 

Aian  came  into  his  presence  designing  to  ridicule  him 
•r  the  loss  of  his  crown  ;  and  so  shook  his  robe,  to 
low  that  he  had  no  arms  concealed  under  it,  a  cere- 
mony observed  when  a  person  came  into   the  royal 
Presence  :  but  Dionysius,  perceiving  the  drift  of  this 
Tiockery,  retorted  the  joke   upon  the  jester.     'My 
«  iend,  said  he,  '  thy  ceremony  is  premature  ;  rather 
lake.,  thy  c-oak  when  thou  art  going  out :'  Dionysius 
,ius  giving  him  to  understand,  that  he  thought  him  a 
G'kely  person  to  carry  something  away  that  was  not  his 
nrn. 

JEROM  DONATO. 

198.  When  this  noble  Venetian  was  sent  ambassa- 
or  from  Venice  to  pope  Julius  II.,  who  asked  for  the 
tie  of  his  republic  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  Adriatic 
3a/ Your  holiness,'  said  he,  'will  find  the  grant 
f  the  Adriatic  written  at  the  back  of  the  original  re- 
ordof  Constantine's  donation  to  pope  Sylvester  of  the 
ity  of  Rome,  and  other  territories  to  the  church.' 
Phis  reply  was  particulary  spirited  at  a  period  when 
was  so  dangerous  to  dispute  the  authenticity  of  this 
ritof  donation,  that,  in  1478,  several  persons  had  been 
ondemned  to  the  flames  at  Strasburg  for  expressing 
oubts  of  it. 

JOHN  DRYDEN. 

He  was  the  great  refiner  of  English  versification,  and 
howed  Pope  the  road  to  poetical  excellence.  He 
pas  the  Proteus  of  authors  ;  he  bent  the  rules  of  cril- 
cism  to  all  kinds  of  poems,  wrote  panegyrics  upon  the 
lost  unworthy  patrons, — a  Danby  and  a  Rochester  ; 
nd  fashioned  his  religious  creed  to  the  varying  times 
»-to  Charles  II.,  he  was  a  protestant,  and  to  his  suc- 
cessor a  pa^t.  His  conduct  ought  perhaps  to  be  al 
ributed  to  nis  indigence,  or  his  fear  of  indigence, 
atherthan  to  any  natural  servility  of  disposition,  Haa 


74  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

he  been  at  liberty  to  indulge  his  inclination,  he  proba 
bly  would  have  given  more  specimens  of  the  subhm 
ty  of  his  genius.  Moderate  praise  would  ratber  dk> 
parage,  than  do  justice  to  his  Alexander  »  Feast.  1 
is  the  noblest  poem  of  the  kind  the  world  ever  saw. 

199.  Lady  Elizabeth  Dryden,  one  morning,  bavin 
come  int©  his  study  at  an  unseasonable  time,  when  h 
was  intently  employed  in  some  composition,  and  find 
ing  her  husband  did  not  attend  to  her,  exclaimec 
'  5lr  Dryden,  you  are  always  poring  upon  these  mui 
ty  books  ;  I  wish  I  was  a  book,  a»id  then  1  shoul 
have  more  of  your  company.'  '  Well,  my  dear,'  re 
plied  the  poet,  '  when  you  do  become  a  book,  pra 
Jet  it  be  an  almanack  ;  for  then  at  the  end  of  the  yea 
I  shall  lay  you  quietly  on  the  shelf,  and  shall  be  abl 
to  pursue  my  studies  without  interruption  ' 

200.  He  said,  '  1  naturally  withdraw  my  sigh 
from  a  precipice  ;  and,  admit  the  prospect  be  neve 
so  large  and  goodly,  can  take  no  pleasure  even  in  look 
ing  on  the  downfall,  though  I  am  secure  from  the  dan 
ger.  Metbinks  there  is  something  of  a  malignant  jo; 
in  that  excellent  description  of  Lucretius,  Suave  mar 
mazno,  &c.  I  am  sure  his  master  Epicurus,  and  m] 
better  master  Cowley,  preferred  the  solitude  of  a  gar 
den  and  the  conversation  of  a  friend  to  any  considera 
tion,  and  even  to  the  regard,  of  those  unhappy  peoph 
whom,  in  our  own  wrong,  we  call  the  great,  i  can  b( 
contented  with  an  humbler  station  in  the  temple  o 
virtue,  than  to  be  set  on.  the  pinnacle  of  it." 

In  his  easy  but  forcible  manner,  he  thus  character 
ised  Shakspeare  : — 

201.  "  Shakspeare  among  all  the  writers  of  our  na 
tion  may  stand  himself  as  a  phoenix,  the  first  and  las 
of  his  order  :  in  whom  bounteous  nature  wonderfull} 
supplied  all,  the  parts  of  a  great  poet  .|pd  excellen 
orator  ;  and  of  whom  alone  one  may  venture  boldly  Ic 
say,  that  had  he  had  more  learning,  perhaps  he  migh' 
have  been  less  of  a  poet." 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  7£ 

202.  When  the  prince  of  Orange  came  to  England, 
t  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  five  of  the  seven  bish- 
ps  who  had  been  sent  to  the  Tower  declared  in  his 
ivour,  and  the  two  others  would  not  conform  to  his 
leasures.  When  D ry.de n  heard  of  this,  he  said,  *  that 
men  golden  candlesticks  had  been  sent  to  the  Tower 
o  be  assayed,  and  Jive  ot  them  proved  to  be  prince's 
ietal  " 

203.  A  young- nobleman  just  come  from  seeing  bis 
lay  of  Cleomenes,  told  him,  in  raillery  against  the 
:ontinuence  of  his  principal  character,'1.  If  I  had  been 
eft  alone  with  a  fair  lady,  1  should  not  have  passed 
iy  time  like  your  Spartan  hero."  "  That  may  be," 
nswered  the  poet  with  a  very  grave  face  ;  "  forgive 
ae  leave  to  tell  you,  sir,  you  are  no  hero." 

204.  He  was  one  of  the  few  poets  who  had  the 
udgment  to  form  a  due  comparative  estimate  of  his 
ivvn  works.  He  said,  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  my 
)de  for  Cecilia's  day  is  esteemed  the  best  of  all  my 
>oetry  by  all  the  town.  I  thought  so  myself  when  I 
vrote  it  ;  but,  being  old,  I  mistrusted  my  own  judg 
n.ent."     He  was  then  sixty-seven  years  of  age. 

205.  Dryden's  description  of  wit  is  excellent 

"  A  thousand  different  shapes  wit  wears, 
Comely  in  thousand  shapes  appears  ; 
Tis  n  t  a  tale,  'tis  not  a  jest. 
Admir'd  with  laughter  at  a  feast; 
Nor  florid  talk,  which  can  this  title  gain,— 
The  proofs  of  wit  for  ever  must  remain."" 

QUEEN  ELIZABETH, 

She  was  the  most  accomplished  woman  of  her  age, 
md  often  spoke  with  as  much  spirit  and  dignity  as  she 
tcted 

20R.  She  evaded  giving  a  direct  answer  to  a  the$k>" 


76  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

gical  question,  respecting  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord 
Supper,  with  admirable  address.  On  being  asked  b, 
a  popish  priest  whether  she  allowed  the  real  pre 
sence,  she  replied, — 

14  Christ  was  the  word  that  spake  it, 
He  took  the  bread  and  break  it, 
And  what  that  word  did  make  it, 
That  I  believe,  and  take  it." 

207.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  having  written  on  a  win 
dow, 

ft  Fain  would  I  climb,  yet  fear  I  to  fall :" 

The  instant  she  saw  it,  she  wrote  under  it, 

"  If  thy  heart  fail  thee,  climb  not  at  all." 

208  A  greater  instance  of  promptitude,  and  tha 
too  in  Latin,  was  her  extempore  reply  to  the  insolen 
commands  delivered  to  her  from  Philip  II.,  by  his  am 
bassador,  in  these  lines  : — 

u  Te,  veto,  nepergas  bello  defendere  Belgas; 
Qua  Dracus  eripuil,  nunc  reslituantur,  oporlet; 
Quas  pater  evertit,  jubeo  te  condere  cellos ; 
Religio  Papccfac  restituatur  ad  unguem? 

She  instantly  answered  with  heroic  spirit, 

"  Ad  Gr&cas,  bone  rex,Jiant  mandata,  calendas." 

209.  Whether  she  was  sufficiently  constant  in  hei 
attachments  to  her  friends,  and  behaved  with  due 
magnanimity  to  her  enemies,  may  be  questioned.  Bui, 
certain  it  is,  her  reputation  stood  so  high  in  the  reigr 
of  her  successor,  from  the  marked  contrast  of  char 
acter,  that  it  was  common  to  hear  people  talk  of  kin§, 
Elizabeth  and  queen  James. 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  77 

210.  The  queen  set  the  greatest  value  upon  Wil- 
im  Cecil  lord  Burleigh  :  she  made  him  secretary  of 
ite  and  lord  treasurer,  and  esteemed  him  her  ablest 
inister.  When  he  was  sick  of  the  gout  at  Burleigh- 
>use  in  the  Strand,  she  visited  him  ;  and  being  much 
commoded  with  her  lofty  head-attire  then  in  fashion, 
rd  Burleigh's  servant,  as  he  conducted  her  through 
e  door,  said,  '  May  your  highness  be  pleased  to 
)op.'  The  queen  answered,  '  For  your  master's 
ke  I  will  stoop,  but  not  for  the  king  of  Spain.' 
le  always  made  lord  Burleigh  sit  down  in  her  pres- 
ice,  saying,  '  My  lord,  we  make  use  of  you,  not  for 
>ur  bad  legs,  but  for  your  good  head.1 

.211.  When  Philip  II.  of  Spain  equipped  the invin- 
ble  armada  which  threatened  England  with  invasion, 
lizabeth  appeared  on  horseback  at  the  camp  at  Til- 
ury  ;  and  riding  through  the  ranks  of  her  army  with 
i  air  which  expressed  the  coolness  and  intrepidity  of 
2r  mind,  she  exhorted  her  soldiers  to  remember  their 
uty,  their  country,  and  their  religion.  '  I  will  rny- 
;!f,'  said  this  heroic  queen,  '  lead  you  to  the  enemy, 
they  dare  to  land  in  this  realm.  I  know  I  have  only 
ie  weak  arms  of  a  woman  ;  but  I  have  the  heart  of  a 
ing  ;  and,  what  is  more,  of  a  king  of  England.  Be- 
eve  me,  1  will  rather  die  in  battle,  than  live  to  see 
ie  ruin  and  slavery  of  my  country  1' 

212.  Elizabeth  placed  dissimulation  among  the  qual- 
ies  necessary  for  sovereigns.  A  bishop  once  took  the 
berty  to  represent  to  her,  that  in  a  particular  instance 
ie  had  acted  more  like  a  politician  than  a  christian. 
I  see  plainly,  my  lord,'  said  she,  '  by  your  remark, 
lat  although  you  may  be  well  acquainted  with  the 
ther  parts  of  the  Scriptures,  you  have  never  read 
lie  Books  of  Kings.'* 

213.  Queen  Elizabeth  seeing  a  gentleman  in  her 
arden,  wko  had  not  been  honoured  by  her  favours  so 
oon  as  he  expected,  to  looking  out  of  her  window. 


78  FLOWERS   OF    WIT. 

said  to  him  in  Italian,  What  does  a  man  think  of, 
Edward,  when  he  thinks  of  nothing  ?'  The  answer  w 
'  He  thinks,  madam,  of  a  woman's  promise.'  T 
queen  drew  back  her  head  ;  but  was  heard  to  s; 
'  Well,  sir  Edward,  I  must  not  argue  with  you  :  anj 
makes  dull  men  witty,  but  it  keeps  them  poor.' 

THOMAS   ELLWOOD, 

An  intelligent  and  learned  Quaker,  who  was  honoi 
ed  by  the  inti  nate  friendship  of  Milton.  He  used 
read  to  Milton  various  authors  in  the  learned  languag 
and  thus  contributed  as  well  to  his  own  improveme 
as  to  solace  the  dark  hours  of  the  poet  when  he  had  h 
his  sight  by  an  affection  ot  the  optic  nerves  callec 
gutta  serena. 

214.  4  The  curious  ear  of  John  Milton,'  said  E 
wood  in  his  own  life,  *  could  discover  by  the  tone 
my  voice,    when  I  did  not  clearly  understand  wha 
read  ;  and  on  such  occasions  he  would  stop  to  exami 
me,  and  open  the  difficult  passages.' 

216.  Milton  lent  Ell  wood  the  manuscript  of  Paradi 
Lost  to  read.  When  he  returned  it,  Milton  asked  hiij 
how  he  liked  it.  '  I  like  it  much,'  said  the  judicio 
Quaker:  'thou  hast  written  well  and  said  much 
Paradise  Lost ;  but  what  hast  thou  to  *ay  of  Paradi! 
Found?  Milton  made  no  answer,  but  sat  musing  f 
some  time.  When  business  afterwards  drew  Ellwot 
to  London,  he  called  on  Milton,  who  showed  him  tl' 
poem  of  Paradise  Regained  ;  and  in  a  pleasant  toi 
said  to  his  friend,  '  This  is  owing  to  you  ;  for  you  pn 
it  into  my  head,  by  the  question  you  asked  me 
Charlfont,  which  before  I  had  not  thought  of.' 

ELOQUENCE. 

216.  Eloquence  must  be  adapted  to  occasions  an 
persons,  or  it  is  good  for  nothing.    It  may  be  judge. 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  79 

f  by  its  effects.  '  What  a  charming  speech  have  we 
?ar<i  !'  said  the  Romans  on  leaving  the  forum  where 
icero  had  been  haranguing  them  ;  '  what  flowing 
eriods,  what  brilliant  images!' — k  Let  us  march  in- 
antly  and  fight  the  invading  tyrant,  said  the  At  be- 
ans, immediately  after  De-mosthenes  had  been  thun- 
ering  in  their  ears  against  Philip  of  Macedon. — 
That  rhetoric,'  says  Seldon  is  his  Table  Talk  'is 
est,  which  is  most  seasonable  and  most  catching.' 
n  instance  we  have  in  that  old  blunt  commander  at 
adiz,  who  showed  himself  a  good  orator.  Being  un- 
er  the  necessity  of  saying  something  to  his  soldiers, 
hich  he  was  not  used  to  do,  he  made  them  a  speech 
•  this  purpose  :  4  What  a  shame  will  it  be  to  you 
Inglishmen,  that  feed  upon  good  beef  and  drink  strong 
eer,  to  let  those  rascally  Spaniards  beat  you,  that  eat 
othing  but  oranges  and  lemons!'  And  so  put  more 
ourage  into  his  men,  then  he  could  have  done  with  a 
earned  oration.  ' 

CIEN  LONG,  EMPEROR  OF  CHINA. 

217.  Sir  George  Staunton  used  to  relate  a  char- 
cteristic  anecdote  of  this  emperor.  He  inquired  of 
ir  George  the  manner  in  which  physicians  were  paid 
n  England.  When  his  majesty  was  made  to  compre- 
lend  what  the  practice  was,  he  exclaimed,  '  Can  any 
lan  in  England  afford  to  be  ill  ?  Now  I  will  inform 
ou,'  said  he,  '  how  1  deal  with  my  physician*.  I 
ave  four,  to  whom  the  care  of  my  health  is  commit- 
sd,  and  a  certain  weekly  salary  is  allowed  to  them  : 
ut  the  moment  I  am  ill,  that  salary  is  stopped  till  1 
m  well  again.  I  need  not  inform  you,  that  my  illness 
3  never  of  any  long  continuance.' 

ENVY. 

218.  When  Bion,  one  of  the  wise  men  of  Greece. 
aw  an  envious  person  looking  very  dejected,  he  said 


80  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

to  him,  '  I  am  at  a  loss  to  tell,  whether  any  good  ft 
tune  has  happened  to  another  person,  or  any  bad 
yourself.'  Agis,  king  of  Sparta,  expressed  the  sat 
sentiment,  when  he  was  informed  that  certain  countr 
men  of  his,  men  of  distinction,  envied  him  :  'lam  s( 
ry  for  it,'  said  he,  '  for  they  will  give  themselv 
double  uneasiness ;  they  will  be  tormented  both  wi 
their  own  misfortunes  and  with  my  prosperity.' 

EPICTETUS. 

A  great  mind  is  so  elastic,  that  it  rises  under  t 
pressure  of  the  heaviest  evils  that  nature  or  fortune  c 
lay  upon  it. 

219.  Epictetus  was  a  cripple,  a  slave,  and  a  paupe 
and  yet  what  sage  of  ancient  Greece  or  Rome  ev 
taught  a  lesson  more  noble,  or  more  productive  of  t 
two  greatest  and  most  rational  enjoyments  of  man,- 
the  health  of  the  body  and  the  tranquillity  of  the  min 
-r-tban  the  maxim,  Bear  and  forbear  ? 

220.  Epictetus  was  an  example  of  virtue  as  well 
of  wisdom  ;  and  his  tenets,  as  far  as  they  can  be  c<| 
lected  from  the  Manual  of  Arrian,  approach  more  neSj 
ly  to  the  purity  of  the  Christian  system  than  those 
any  other  philosopher. 

Epictetus  said,  '  that  if  any  evil  happened  to  one 
the  vulgar,  he  blamed  others  ;  a  novice  in  philosopl 
blamed  himself;  but  a  true  philosopher  blamed  I 
one.' 

HARRY  ERSKINE. 

221.  Lord  Kellie  was  amusing  the  company  wi| 
the  account  of  a  sermon  he  had  heard  in  Italy,  in  whii 
the  preacher  related  the  miracle  of  St.  Anthony  preac 
ing  to  the  fishes,  which,  in  order  to  listen  to  his  pio 
discourse,  held  their  heads  out  of  the  water.     '  I  c; 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  Si 

edit  the  miracle,'  3aid  Harry  Erskine,  '  if  your  lord- 
jp  was  at  church.'  *  I  certainly  was  there,'  said  the 
■er.  *  Then,1  rejoined  Harry,  '  there  was  at  least 
e  fish  out  of  water.' 

MARIA  BEATRICE  D'ESTE. 

222.  Maiua  Beatrice  d'Este,  daughter  of  the  duke 
Modena,  was  the  second  wife  of  James  II.  Louis 
IV.  was  very  liberal  in  his  attentions  both  to  her  and 
the  exiled  monarch  her  bigoted  consort.  When  the 
ieen  saw  Louis  caress  the  prince  of  Wales,  who  was 
lovely  child,  she  said  to  him  :  '  I  have  often  envied 
e  happiness  of  my  son,  because  he  is  not  of  an  age  to 
r1  the  pain  of  his  misfortunes  ;  but  now  1  pity  him, 
scause  he  is  insensible  to  your  majesty's  caresses  and 
ndness." 


PRINCE  EUGENE. 

!3.  The  renowned  marshal  Boufflers  distinguished 
mselfbyhis  brave  defence  of  Lisle  against  this  prince, 
hen  the  place  surrendered,  and  the  marshal  was  tak- 
\  prisoner,  '  I  have  too  much  glory,'  said  the  prince, 
n  this  achievement :  had  fortune  given  me  my  choice, 
would  rather  have  defended  the  place  in  the  manner 
)u  have  done,  than  have  taken  it.' 

224.  Old  General  Oglethorpe  told  Dr.  Joseph  War- 
n  two  anecdotes  of  prince  Eugene  and  the  duke  of 
irlbnrough,  not  publicly  known.  When  the  prince 
ent  to  consult  the  duke  in  his  tent,  the  night  before 
e  great  battle  of  Blenheim,  the  duke,  with  his  char- 
:teristic  parsimony  and  attention  to  little  in  the  midst 

great  things,  snuffed  out  two  of  the  four  candles  that 
ere  burning  on  the  table,  and  said,  '  We  can  talk 
ithout  so  much  light.' 

225.  At  a  grand  dinner  the  duke  was  called  upon  for 

7* 


82  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

a  toast,  and  gave,  MeaRegina,  alluding  to  queen  Ann? 
Prince  Eugene  whispered  to  the  person  who  sat  ne: 
him,  '  If  he  means  to  give  the  toast  of  his  heart,  I 
should  give,  Regina  pucuniaS 

226.  The  duke  of  Marlborough  at  his  death  le 
prince  Eugene  his  sword  ;  lord  Orford,  the  minister 
son,  was  with  the  prince,  when  this  mark  of  his  gre; 
rival's  final  esteem  was  brought  and  presented  to  hin 
He  immediately  drew  it,  and,  making  a  flourish  with  i 
said  in  French,  '  Behold  the  sword  which  I  have  fo. 
lowed  through  the  whole  of  this  long  war.' 

227.  This  prince  gave  his  testimony  how  much  th 
success  of  an  army  may  depend  upon  the  appointmei 
of  its  general.  In  the  war  that  commenced  against  th 
allies  in  1701,  the  French  cabinet  was  at  a  loss  as  t 
the  choice  of  a  general.  When  this  indecision  wa 
talked  of  in  the  council  of  the  emperor  of  Germanj 
prince  Eugene  said,  '  If  Villeroi  get  the  command, 
shall  beat  him  ;  if  Vendome  be  appointed,  we  shai 
have  a  severe  struggle  ;  if  it  be  Catinat,  I  sha41  b 
beaten.' 

EURIPIDES. 

228.  Euripides  composed  his  Tragedies  very  slow 
ly.  He  complained  to  the  poet  Alcestis  that  he  had 
with  considerable  labour,  finished  only  four  verses  I 
three  days.  Alcestis,  who  wrote  with  all  the  readines 
of  a  bad  author,  told  him  that  he  had  in  the  same  timii 
composed  a  hundred  with  perfect  ease.  '  But,'  sai<i 
Euripides  rather  piqued,  '  there  is  this  difference  be 
tween  our  compositions  :  your  verses  will  live  forthrei 
days,  and  mine  will  live  for  ever.' 

FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 

229.  Hannibal  tried  every  art  to  draw  him  into  a 
battle,    *  If  Fabius,'  said  he,  •  be  so  great  a  general  atl 


1L0WERS   OF    WIT.  83 

i  is  reported  to  be,  he  ought  to  descend  from  the 
Duntains,  and  fight  me  in  the  plains.'  Fabius  replied,^ 
f  Hannibal  be  so  great  a  general  as  he  fancies  himself 
be,  he  ought  to  force  me  to  fight  him  any  where.' 

GARY  LORD  FALKLAND. 

230.  He  was  one  of  the  most  amiable  and  accom- 
ished  nobleman  of  his  age.     It  was  a  saying  of  his  : 

pity  unlearned  gentlemen  on  a  rainy  day.'  He  fell 
bting  valiantly  in  the  royal  cause  at  the  battle  of 
swbury,  in  the  thirty-fourth  year  of  his  age 

FENELON. 

231.  A  person  talking  to  Fenelon  upon  the  subject 
the  criminal  laws  in  France,  approved,  in  contradic- 

>n  to  the  archbishop  of  the  number  of  executions  for 
iminal  offences.  '  I  maintain,'  said  he,  '  that  such 
iminals  are  unfit  to  live-'  '  But,  my  friend,'  said 
>neIon,  '  you  do  not  reflect,  that  they  are  still  more 
ifit  to  die.' 

FERDINAND,  KING  OF  SPAIN. 

232.  Ferdinand,  king  of  Spain,  used  to  say,  '  that 
could  distinguish  a  wise  man  from  a  fool   by  the 

llowing  marks  :  Moderation  in  anger,  government  in 
usehold  affairs,  and  writing  a  letter  without  useles 
petitions.' 

GONZALO  FERNANDEZ. 

233.  Gonzalo  Fernandez  de  Cordova,  surname^ 
i  Great  Captain,  passed  often  by  the  door  of  two 
imsels,  daughters  of  a  poor  gentlemen,  and  as  often 
pressed  his  admiration  of  their  beauty,  which  was 
perlative.    The  father  hearing  of  this,  thought  that 


34  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

it  would  be  a  fair  occasion  of  mending  his  fortune,  an 
went  to  the  Great  Captain  and  askedhim  for  some  o 
fice  out  of  the  town  The  Great  Captain  understam 
ing  him  that  he  intended  to  leave  his  house,  in  ord< 
to  give  him  free  access  to  the  fair  damsels,  asked  bin 
*  What  family  have  you  ?'  The  gentleman  answerei 
4  Two  young  daughters.'  '  Stay,'  said  the  Great  Ca\ 
tain, '  and  I  will  give  you  portions  for  them  :'  and,  ei 
tering  a  closet,  he  brought  out  two  purses,  each  cor 
taining  a  thousand  ducats  of  gold.  4  Here,'  said  he 
'  one  of  these  will  provide  for  your  two  daughter 
and  the  other  will  provide  for  jTourself.  Heaven  fo 
bid  their  innocence  should  lose  the  protection  of  thei 
father  !' 

DANIEL  DE  FOE. 

234.  This  author  has  been  very  cruelly  treated.  1 
does  not  appear  what  provocation  he  gave  to  Pope  t 
stigmatise  him  in  the  Dunciad  in  the  following  line 

*  Earless  on  high,  stood  unabashM  De  Foe.' 

That  he  stood  in  the  pillory  in  the  year  1702,  for  a  sup 
posed  libel,  called  '  The  Shortest  Way  with  the  Dis 
senters,'  is  a  fact  that  cannot  be  denied.  But  that  h< 
lost  his  ears  when  he  suffered  this  disgrace,  is  not  si 
clear.  He  was  the  author  of  a  work,  which  will  b< 
read  long  after  the  Dunciad  is  forgotten,  and  which  i 
better  worth  reading  than  any  thing  Pope  ever  wrote 
— that  work  is  Robinson  Crusoe. 

But  a  greater  injury  has  been  done  to  the  memon 
of  De  Foe,  by  the  prevailing  tradition,  that  he  go 
possession  of  the  manuscripts  of  Alexander  Selkirk 
who  had  lived  for  several  years  upon  the  uninhabitec 
island  of  Juan  Fernandez,  and  that  he  published  thesi 
manuscripts  as  his  own.  Now  the  fact  is,  the  story  o 
Alexander  Selkirk  is  included  in  the  account  of  captan 
Woodes  Rodger's  Voyage  round  the  World,  and  tha 
voyage  was  published  in  the  year  1712.  But  the  firs 


FLOWERS  OF    WIT.  85 

t  of  Robinson  Crusoe  was  not  published  till  seven 
ars  after,  that  is,  in  the  year  1719,  an  interval  am- 
e  enough  for  so  rapid  a  writer  as  De  Foe  to  have 
mposed  a  much  longer  narrative. 
The  leading  occurrence,  of  a  sailor  living  alone  on 
remote  island,  is  indeed  the  same  both  as  related  in 
ptain  Rogers'  Voyage,  and  in  De  Foe's  romance  ; 
it  the  whole  tenour  ot  the  story,  the  adventures  and 
e  reflections  in  Robinson  Crusoe,  are  perfectly  ori- 
ia!,  and  are  the  productions  of  a  man  blessed  with 

most  happy  invention.  How  comprehensive  and 
rrect  must  his  knowledge  of  the  human  mind 
ve  been,  who  could  compose  a  work  that  is  found  to 

equally  pleasing,  or  rather  irresistibly  captivating, 
h  persons  of  both  sexes  and  of  all  countries,  ages, 
d  conditions  of  life  ! 

The  anecdote  of  the  worthy  alderman  of  Oxford,*1 
similar  to  a  story  told  by  Horace  in  one  of  his  Epis- 
2s:~ 


At  Argos  liv'd  a  citizen  well  known, 
Who  long  ima°;in'd  that  he  heard  the  tone 
Of  deep  tragedians  on  an  empty  stage, 
And  sat  applauding  in  ecstatic  rag;e  ; 
In  other  points,  a  person  wh^  maint^in'd 
A  due  decorum,  and  a  life  unstain'd. 

He,  when  his  friends,  with  much  expense  and  pains, 

Had  amply  purz"d  with  helleb^  his  brains, 

Said,  '  friends,  'twere  betfe%ou  had  sfopt  my  breath  . 

Your  love  was  rancour,  and  your  cure  was  death, 

To  rob  me  thus  of  pleasure  so  refin'd, 

The  dear  delusion  of  a  raptur'd  mind.' 

Francis''  Horace. 

A  story  of  the  same  kind  is  related  by  Aristotle,  of 
lative  of  Abydos. 


*  See  page  68. 


86  FLOVURS   OF  WIT. 

FONTENELLE. 

235.  He  reached  the  very  advanced  age  of  ninetj 
nine  years,  and  continued  his  literary  pursuits  to  | 
last.  Lord  Orrery,  in  a  letter  written  From  Marstc 
near  Glastonbury  in  Somersetshire,  very  beautiful 
said, '  Fontenelle,  like  our  neighboring  thorn,  blossor 
in  the  winter  of  his  days.'  Voltaire  pronounced  hi 
to  be  the  most  universal  genius  of  the  age  of  Loi 
XIV. 


236.  A  person  of  quality  called  upon  Fontenelle,  at 
found  him  in  a  very  bad  humour.  '  What  is  the  mi 
ter  V  said  he.  *  The  case  is  this,*  said  the  philos< 
pher  ;  '  I  have  only  one  servant,  and  1  am  waited  up< 
as  badly  as  you  are  who  have  twenty.' 


237.  Fontenelle  was  probably  the  only  man  ev< 
known  to  say,  at  a  very  advanced  age,  *  Was  I  to  b 
gin  again  my  mortal  career,  I  would  do  exactly  as 
have  done.' 


238.  The  duchess  of  Maine,  a  lady  of  great  wit  at 
accomplishments,  asked  some  of  her  company  one  da; 
who  were  persons  of  wit,  l  What  is  the  difference  br 
tween  me  and  a  clqcW>'  They  were  all  much  at  a  lo. 
for  an  answer.  WhM  Jontenelle  entered  the  roou 
the  same  question  being  put  to  him,  he  instantly  n 
plied,  *  The  difference  between  you  and  a  clock  | 
this  :  a  clock  marks  the  hours,  but  your  grace  makt 
us  forget  them.' 

239.  A  physician  observed  to  Fontenelle,  that  coffe 
kills  by  a  slow  poison      '  Yes,  very  slow  indeed,  ai 
swered  the  philosopher  smiling  ;  '  for  I  have  taken 
every  day  for  these  fourscore  years  past,  and  am  alh 
still.' 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  87 

SAMUEL  FOOTE. 

240  He  was  justly  entitled  the  English  Aristophanes, 
he  indulged  in  the  licentiousness  of  the  old  Greek 
nely,  and  introduced  the  characters  of  living  per- 
is upon  the  stage.  He  deserved  applause  for  his 
t,  and  castigation  for  his  personalities.  His  wit  and 
)llery  were  wont  to  set  the  table  on  a  roar  ;  and  as 
•roof  how  facetious  a  companion  he  was,  Dr.  Johnson 
ose  risible  muscles  were  not  remarkable  for  their 
ribility,  and  came  into  his  company  determined  not 
be  pleased  with  him,  declared  *  that  he  found  Foote 
esistiblc.' 

241.  Foote  and  Garrick  were  at  a  tavern  togther,  at 
>  time  when  the  gold  coin  was  regulated.  Foote  tak- 
;  out  his  purse  to  pay  his  reckoning,  asked  Garrick 
at  he  should  do  with  a  light  guinea.  '  Pshaw  !  it  is 
rth  nothing,''  said  Garrick  ;  '  so  fling  it  to  the  devil.' 
Veil  David,'  said  Foote,  'you  are  an  ingenious  fel- 
v,  as  I  always  thought  you  ;  ever  contriving  to  make 
;uinea  go  farther  than  any  other  man.' 

142.  The  late  duke  of  Norfolk  was  remarkably  fond 
his  bottle.  On  a  masquerade  night,  he  consulted 
ote  as  to  what  character  he  should  appear  in.  '  Don't 
disguised,'  said  Foote, 4  but  assume  a  new  character; 
sober. 

!43.  Foote  once  walking  with  a  friend,  met  a  beg- 
■  who  very  earnestly  solicited  their  charity.  His 
md  refused  ;  and,  on  Foote  giving  him  a  few  pence, 
i,  ■  I  believe  you  are  duped,  for  I  am  morally  cer- 
i  the  fellow  is  an  impostor.'  '  He  is  either  the  most 
tressed  man,  or  the  best  actor,  I  ever  saw  in  my  life,' 
•lied  Foote  ;  '  and,  either  as  the  one  or  the  other, 
has  a  brotherly  claim  upon  me.' 

CHARLES  FOX 

244.  Was  never  at  a  loss  for  a  repartee.     During 


88  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

a  Westminster  election,  when  he  was  opposed  by  s 
Cecil  Wray,  one  of  the  adverse  party,  when  a  dead  c 
was  thrown  upon  the  hustings,  observed,  that  it  smel 
ed  worse  than  a  Fox.  '  That  is  not  at  all  extraordin 
ry,'  said  Fox, '  considering  it  is  a^oZe-cat.' 

245.  Some  person  asked  him  what  was  the  meanir 
of  that  passage  in  the  Psalms, '  he  clothed  himself  w? 
cursing,  like  as  with  a  garment  ?'  '  The  meaning,  sa 
he  '  I  think,  is  clear  enough  ;  the  man  had  a  habit 
swearing.' 

246.  On  a  consultation  of  the  minority  membei 
previous  to  an  important  question  being  brought  ft 
ward  by  the  ministry  in  the  house  of  commons,  it  w 
asked,  who  would  be  a  proper  person  to  move  tl 
amendment.  Mr.  Fox  replied,  '  Saddle  Black  Surre 
for  the  field  to-morrow.' 

247.  Lord  North  exulting  over  Fox  on  the  public 
tionof  a  Gazette  oxtraordinary,  to  announce  that  Ne 
York  was  conquered  ;  Fox  observed, '  It  is  a  mistak 
sir  :  New  York  is  not  conquered,  it  is  only,  like  t! 
ministry,  abandoned.' 

248.  Burke  and  Fox  supping  one  evening  togetlr 
at  the  thatched  House,  were  served  with  some  dish 
more  elegant  than  usual.  Fox's  appetite  happen! 
to  be  rather  keen,  he  by  no  means  relished  the  lig 
dainties  before  him  ;  but,  addressing  his  companio 
said,  '  My  good  friend,  these  dishes  are  well  suited 
your  taste,  as  they  are  both  sublime  and  beautiful? 


FRANCIS  THE  FIRST. 


lish. 


249.  This  monarch  entertained  a  great  rega 
Leonardo  da  VTinci,  and  invited  that  accompl 
painter  to  leave  Milan  and  settle  in  France.  Havi 
then  reached  seventy  years  of  age,  he  fell  sick.  T 
king,  who  was  sensible  of  his  extraordinary  mei 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

;ry  frequently  went  to  visit  him.  When  some  of  his 
•urtiers  expressed  their  surprise,  that  so  great  a  mon- 
ch  should  deign  to  pay  so  much  attention  to  an  hum- 
e  artist,  a  man  of  no  rank  or  family  ;  Francis  thus 
enced  their  haughty  objections  :  '  fee  not  surprised 
the  honour  I  pay  to  this  admirable  painter,  but 
am  to  make  a  right  estimate  of  his  value — and  your 
vn.  I  can  make  any  day  1  please  such  lords  as  you, 
it  God  alone  can  make  such  a  man  as  Leonardo  da 
inci.5 

250.  Francis,!.,  after  losing  the  battle  of  Pavia,  in 
lich  he  was  taken  prisoner  by  Charles  V.,  wrote  to 
i  mother  in  these  terms  :  '  Madam,  we  have  lost 
ery  thing  except  our  honour.' 

251.  Francis  I.  consulting  with  his  generals,  how  to 
id  his  army  over  the  Alps  into  Italy,  Amarel  his  fool 
rang  from  a  corner,  and  advised  him  to  consult  rath- 
— how  to  lead  it  back. 

252.  Francis  was  the  first  monarch  who  introduced 
lies  at  his  court.  He  said,  in  a  style  of  true  gal- 
itry, '  that  a  drawing-room  without  ladies,  was  like 
i  year  without  the  spring  ;  or  rather,  like  the  spring 
thout  flowers.' 


DR.  FRANKLIN. 

253.  A  young  American  having  broken  an  appoint- 
:nt  with  Dr.  Franklin,  came  to  him  the  following  day 
spared  to  make  his  peace  with  a  studied  apology. 
!  was  proceeding  at  a  tiresome  length,  introducing 
th  much  ingenuity,  but  at  the  expense  of  truth,  a  va- 
ty  of  reasons  for  his  want  of  punctuality  ;  when  Dr. 
anklm  stopped  him  :  '  My  dear  boy,  say  no  more, 
u  have  indeed  said  too  much  already  ;  for  he  who  is 
good  at  making  an  excuse,  is  seldom  good  at  anv 
ng  else  ' 


90  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

FREDERICK  OF  PRUSSIA. 

254.  As  he  was  walking  in  the  gardens  of  Sans  Souc 
with  Mr.  D'Alembert,  he  said  to  him,  '  Do  you  see  tha 
old  woman,  a  poor  weeder,  asleep  on  that  sunny  bank 
— she  is  probably  a  more  happy  being  than  either  o 


255.  A  lady  of  fashion  complimented  him  in  sucl 
high  terms,  that  he  was  rather  disgusted  than  please< 
with  her  flattery.  She  said,  among  other  things,  Tha 
he  was  covered  with  glory,  was  the  peace-maker  o 
Europe,  and  the  greatest  monarch  upon  earth.  '  Mad 
am,'  replied  the  king,  '  you  are  as  handsome  as  an  an 
gel  ;  witty,  accomplished,  and  enchanting  ;  in  short,  yot 
possess  all  admirable  qualities — but  you  paints 


FURET1ERE. 


u 


256.    Benserade   was    once  at    a  meeting   of 
French    Academy,  and    took  the  chair  of  Furetiere 
whom  he  disliked  ;  and  said,  as  he  was  sitting  down 
1  This  is  a  place  from  which  you  naturally  expect  t<J 
hear  a  great  many  foolish  things  ' — '  Well  done,'  sail 
Furetiere, '  you  have  made  an  admirable  beginning.' 

DAVID  GARRICK. 

He  was  the  most  admirable  and  chaste  actor  tha 
ever  trod  the  stage.  His  abilities  to  represent,  wen 
only  equalled  by  the  genius ot  Shakspeare  to  delineate 
all  the  diversified  characters  of  the  Drama.  His  con- 
versation displayed  much  of  the  spirit  and  brillianc) 
with  which  he  wrote,  and  performed  on  the  stage. 


257.  The  expression  of  his  eyes,  and  the  flexibility 
of  his  features,  are  well  known  to  have  given  him  tin 
most  extraordinary  advantages  in  the  representation  o 
various  characters.  He  sometime?  availed  himself  o 
these  natural   assistances,  to  produce  a  ludicrous 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  131 

mong  his  friends.  He  frequently  visited  Mr.  Rigby,  at 
1  isley  Thorn  in  Essex.  Mr.  Rigby  one  day  inquired 
fhis  servant,  what  company  was  arrived.     The  ser- 

ant  said,  Lord  M was  come,  and  had    brought 

ith  him  a  short  gentleman  with  very  bright  eyes, 
leaning  Mr.  Garrick.  '  Why  have  I  not  the  pleasure  of 
seing  them  here  V  said  Mr.  Rigby.  '  I  don't  know,' 
aid  the  servant,  *  how  long  it  will  be  before  my  lord 
an  make  his  appearance  ;  for  the  case  is  this  :  The 
arber  came  to  shave  his  lordship  ;  andjust  as  he  had 
baved  half  his  lordship's  face,  the  short  gentleman 
rith  the  bright  eyes  began  to  read  the  newspaper  to 
im  ;  but  he  read  it  in  such  a  droll  way,  and  made  so 
lany  odd  faces,  that  my  lord  laughed,  and  the  barber 
lughed,  and  when  I  went  into  the  room,  1  could  not 
elp  laughing  too  ;  so  that,  sir,  if  you  don't  send  for 
oe  short  gentleman,  his  lordship  must  appear  at  dinner 
v\th  one  side  of  his  face  smooth  and  the  other  with  a 
ieard  of  two  days'  growth.* 

258.  Garrick  was  on  a  visit  at  Hagley,  when  news 
ame  that  a  company  of  players  were  going  to  perform 
t  Birmingham.  Lord  Lyttleton  said  to  Garrick,  '  They 
'ill  hear  you  are  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  will  ask 
ou  to  write  an  address  to  the  Birmingham  audience.' 
Suppose  then,'  said  Garrick,  without  the  least  hesita- 
ion,  '  I  begin  thus  : 

Ye  sons  of  iron,  copper,  brass,  and  steel, 

Who  have  not  heads  to  think,  nor  hearts  to  feel...' 

0,'  cried  his  lordship, '  if  you  begin  thus  they  will 
iss  the  players  off  the  stage,  and  pull  the  house  down.' 
My  lord,'  said  Garrick,'  what  is  the  u*e  of  an  address, 
F  it  does  not  come  home  to  the  business  and  bosoms  of 
he  audience  ?' 

259.  The  first  time  Henderson  the  player  rehearsed 
part  at  Drury-lane,  George  Garrick  said  as  he  enter- 

d, '  I  only  come  as  a  spectator.'   Soon  after,  he  made 


92  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

some  objections  to  Henderson's  playing  ;  and  the  ne 
actor  retorted,  '  I  thought  you  only  came  as  Spec 
tutor,  but  you  are  turning  Taller.''  '  Nevermind  him. 
said  David  Garrick  very  good  naturedly  ;  '  let  him  b 
what  he  will,  I  will  be  Guardian."* 

260.  The  duchess  of  Kingston  asked  Garrick  on 
day,  why  Love  was  represented  as  a  child.  He  re 
plied,  '  Because  love  never  reaches  the  age  of  wisdon 
and  experience.' 

261.  A  friend  made  Garrick  a  present  of  a  case  tba 
contained  a  razor,  a  strap,  and  a  shaving- box  ;  and  tell 
ing  him  that  he  would  find  some  other  pretty  littlt 
things  in  it,  'I  hope,'  said  Garrick,  '  as  I  cannot  shave 
myself,  that  one  of  them  is  a  pretty  little  barber.' 

262.  Mr.  Twiss,  a  romancing  traveller,  was  talking 
of  a  church  he  had  seen  in  Spain  a  mile  and  a  half  long 
'  Bless  me  V  said  Garrick,  *  how  broad  was  it  ?'  '  Abou 
ten  yards,1  said  Twiss.  '  This  is,  you'll  observe,  gen- 
tlemen,' said  Garrick  to  the  company,  *  not  a  round  lie. 
but  differs  from  his  other  stories,  which  are  generally 
as  broad  as  they  are  long.' 

263.  Steme,  who  used  his  wife  very  ill,  was  one  day 
talking  to  Garrick,  in  a  fine  sentimental  manner,  in 
praise  of  conjugal  love  and  fidelity.  '  The  husband,' 
said  Sterne,  '  who  behaves  unkindly  to  his  wife,  de- 
serves to  have  his  house  burnt  over  his  head.'  *  If  you 
think  so,'  said  Garrick,  '  I  hope  your  house  is  insured.' 


GENIUS. 

264.  '  I  know  of  no  such  thing  as  genius,'  said  Ho- 
garth to  Mr.  Gilbert  Cooper  :  '  genius  is  nothing  but 
labour  and  diligence.' 

265.  Sir  Isaac  Newton  said  of  himself,  '  That  if  eve- 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  $3 

had  been  able  to  do  any  thing,  he  had  effected  it  by 
tient  thinking  only.' 

SIR  HUMPHREY  GILBERT. 

266.  He  was  brother-in  law  by  the  mother's  side  t© 
Walter  Raleigh,  and  possessed  many  of  the  various 

ents  for  which  that  great  man  was  distinguished. — 
?,  as  well  as  sir  Walter,  pursued  his  studies  by  sea 
d  land  ;  and  was  seen  in  the  dreadful  tempest  which 
allowed  up  his  ship,  sitting  unmoved  in  the  stern  of 
;  vessel,  with  a  book  in  his  hand,  and  was  often  heard 
say, '  Courage,  my  lads  !  we  are  as  near  heaven  by 
i  as  by  land.' 

GNATHENA. 

267.  This  lady  was  a  Grecian  courtesan.  When  a 
ry  diminutive  bottle  of  wine  was  brought  for  her  to 
ste,  with  the  recommendation  that  it  was  fery  old  : 
t  may  be  so,'  said  she, '  but  it  certainly  is  very  small 
its  age.' 

This  joke,  of  very  high  antiquity,  has  been  attribut- 
to  Quin.  Such  coincidences  of  wit  confirm  Porson's 
iservation.     (See  the  preface  to  this  work.) 

GODFREY  OF  BULLOIGN. 

168.  When  this  great  champion  of  the  Crusades 
is  inaugurated  king  of  Jerusalem,  he  was  offered  a 
own.  He  meekly  declined  it,  saying,  *  He  would 
ver  wear  a  crown  of  gold  in  the  place  where  his  Sa- 
3ur  had  worn  a  crown  of  thorns.' 

DR.  GOLDSMITH. 

269.  Speaking  of  Dr.  Johnson's  force  and  persever- 
ce   in  disputation,  said,   w  There  is  no  arguing  with 
8* 


94  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

him  ;  for,  if  his  pistol  misses  fire,  he  knocks  you  do\ 
with  the  butt  end  of  it-' 

SIR  WILLIAM  GOOCH. 

270.  Sir  William  Gooch,  the  governor  of  Wy 
liamsburg,  walking  along  the  street  in  conversation  wit] 
a  friend,  returned  the  salute  of  a  negro,  who  was  pass- 
ing by.  '  Do  you  deign.'  said  his  friend,  k  to  take  no 
tice  of  a  slave  ?'  '  Yes,'  replied  the  governor  ;  '  for 
cannot  allow  even  a  slave  to  excel  me  in  good  manners. 

THE  DUKE  DE  GRAMMONT. 

271.  He  was  distinguished  by  the  brevity,  energy 
and  point  of  his  speeches.  He  was  commissioned  t< 
ask  the  king  of  Spain,  the  Infanta  his  daughter  in  mai 
riage  for  the  king  of  France.  'Sire,'  said  he  to  tin 
king  of  Spain, '  my  master  gives  you  peace  ;'  and  thei 
turning  to  the  Infanta,  he  continued,  '  and  to  you,  mad: 
am,  he  gives  his  heart  and  his  crown.' 

272.  He  besieged  a  town,  and  the  governor  c. 
lated.  When  the  governor  was  introduced  to  him,  n 
said,  '  I  will  confess  to  you,  in  confidence,  that  I  pro 
posed  to  surrender  because  I  wanted  powder.'  '#T( 
return  your  confidence,'  said  the  duke,  '  I  confe'ss  I 
granted  you  such  good  conditions,  because  I  wanted 
ball.' 

MR.  GRATTAN 

273.  Never  lighted  the  fire  of  his  eloquence  into* 
more  splendid  blaze,  than  when  he  pronounced  a  pane 
gyric  on  the  great  lord  Chatham.  Grattan  said  oi  Ion 
Chatham,  '  His  eloquence  was  an  aera  in  the  senatr 
peculiar  and  spontaneous, 'familiarly  expressing  gigan ; 
tic  sentiments  and  instructive  wisdom  :  not  like  the  tor' 
rents  of  Demosthenes,  or  the  splendid  conflagration^ 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  95 

ully  ;  it  resembled  sometimes  the  thunder,  and  some- 
nes  the  music,  of  the  spheres.  It  lightened  on  the 
bject,  and  reached  the  point  by  the  flashings  of  the 
ind,  which,  like  those  of  his  eye,  were  felt,  but  could 
t  be  followed.' 

'  Upon  the  whole,  there  was  in  this  man  something 
at  could  create,  subvert,  or  reform  ;  an  understand- 
g,  a  spirit,  and  an  eloquence  to  summon  mankind  to 
ciety,  or  to  break  the  bonds  of  slavery  asunder,  and 
rule  the  wilderness  of  free  minds  with  unbounded 
thority  ;  something  that  could  establish  or  over- 
belm  an  empire,  and  strike  a  blow  in  the  world  that 
ould  resound  through  the  universe.' 

SIR  FULK  GREVIL. 

274.  He  was  afterwards  lord  Brook.  He  was  a 
ember  of  the  house  of  commons,  when  the  house 
sisted  much  upon  precedents.  '  Why,'  said  he,  'do 
iu  stand  so  much  upon  precedents  ?  The  times  here- 
ter  will  be  good  or  bad.  If  good,  precedents  will 
j  no  harm  ;  if  bad,  power  will  make  a  way,  where  it 
nds  none., 

LADY  JANE  GREY. 

£75.  Lady  Jane  Grey,  of  the  blood  royal  of  England 
y  both  parents,  was  as  much  distinguished  by  her 
earning,  as  by  her  sweetness  of  disposition,  her  piety, 
nd  other  excellent  qualities.  When  the  learned  Roger 
Lscham  paid  her  a  visit  at  her  father's  castle,  at  Brad- 
ate  in  Leicestershire,  in  1690,  all  the  family  were 
one  a  hunting,  except  lady  Jane,  whom  he  found  in 
er  own  apartment  reading  the  Phaedon  of  Plato,  in  the 
riginal  Greek.  He  asked  her,  why  she  lost  such  pas- 
me  as  there  needi  must  be  in  the  park  ;  to  which  she 
nswered,  smiling,  '  I  wist  all  their  sport  in  the  park  is 
ut  a  shadow  to  that  pleasure  I  find  in  Plato.'  This 
aturally  leading  him  to  inquire,  how  a  lady  of  her  age 


96  FLOWERS    OF    WIT, 

had  attained  such  proficiency  in  so  learned  an  auth 
as  Plato  ;  '  I  will  tell  you,'  said  she,  '  and  I  will  tell  y 
a  truth  which  perchance  you  will  marvel  at.    One 
the  greatest  benefits  that  ever  God  gave  me  is,  that 
sent  me  so  sharp  and  severe  parents,  and  so  gentle 
schoolmaster.     For  when  I   am  in  presence  of  eith 
father  or  mother,  whatever  I  do,  be  it  sewing,  playir 
dancing,  or  doing  any  thing  else,  I  am  so  sharply  taui 
ed,  so  cruelly  threatened,   yea  presently,  sometim 
with  pinches  and  other  ways,  that  I  think  myself  in  he 
till  time  comes  that  I  must  go  to  Mr.  Aylmer,  wl 
teacheth   me  so  gently,  so  pleasantly,    and  with  sut 
fair  allurements  to  learning,   that  1  think  all   the  tin 
nothing  while  I  am  with  him  ;  and  when  I  am  callt 
from  him,  I   fall  on  weeping,  because  whatsoever  I  ( 
else  but  learning,   is  full  of  grief,  trouble,   fear,  ai 
wholly  misliking  unto  me.     And  thus  my  book  ha 
been  so  much  my  pleasure,  and  bringeth  daily  to  n 
more  and  more  satisfaction,  that  in  respect  of  it, 
else  is  in  very  deed  but  trifles  and  troubles  unto  me 

GROSSETETE,  BISHOP  OF  LINCOLN 

He  was  an  able  scholar  and  enlightened  divine 
the  thirteenth  century.     He  was  skilled  in  various  lar 
guages,  arts,  and  sciences  ;    and  that  he  possessed 
kind  of  knowledge,  that  of  human  nature,  more  val 
able  than  any  other,  will  appear  from  the'following  an 
ecdote. 

276.  He  had  a  brother  a  farmer,  who  was  very  am 
bitious,  and  asked  him  to  take  him  from  his  humbl 
occupation  and  promote  him  to  some  high  office. - 
'  Brother,'  said  the  bishop,  '  if  your  plough  is  broken 
I  will  pay  for  mending  it ,  if  one  of  your  oxen  shoulc 
die,  I  will  give  you  money  to  buy  another  ;  but  i 
farmer  1  found  you,  and  a  farmer  I  will  leave  you.' 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  97 

GUIDO  REN]. 

277.  Guercino  was  very  desirous  to  know  the  model 
r  which  Guido  painted  the  heads  of  his  women  ;  he 
erefore  begged  a  common  friend  to  prevail  upon 
jido  to  satisfy  his  curiosity.  The  friend  went  and 
ide  his  request.  Immediately  Guido  ordered  the 
>man  who  ground  his  colours,  who  was  ugliness  itself, 
sit  down  before  him,  and  painted  the  most  beautiful 
-nale  head  that  could  be  imagined.  *  So,'  said  he 
the  astonished  friend  of  Guercino,  '  relate  what  you 
ve  seen  me  do  ;  and  be  assured,  that  when  an  artist 
s  his  head  filled  with  fine  ideas,  he  wants  no  other 
)del  than  such  a  one  as  you  see  before  me.' 

ADMIRAL  HADDOCK. 

R^he  family  o£  the  Haddocks  were  remarkable  for 
ir  eminent  services  at  sea.  The  grandfather,  father 
d  son,  had  medals  given  them  at  one  and  the  same 
ne,  for  their  gallant  behaviour  in  a  general  action 
ainst  the  Dutch. 

278.  When  admiral  sir  Richard  Haddock  was  dying, 
called  his  son,  and  said  to  him,  'Considering  my 

nk  in  life,  and  public  services  for  so  many  years,  1 
Sail  leave  you  but  a  small  fortune  ;  but,  my  dear  boy, 
8was  honestly  got,  and  will  wear  well  ;  there  are  no 
iamen's  wages  or  provisions  ;  not  one  single  penny  of 
Irty  money  in  it.' 

THE  EARL  OF  HALIFAX. 

|279.  At  the  beginning  of  the  revolution  in  16G8' 
veral  persons  of  rank,  who  had  been  very  active  and 
rviceable  in  bringing  about  that  event,  but  who  had 
great  abilities,  applied  for  some  of  the  most  consid- 
able  employments  under  government.  The  earl  of 
ilifax  being  consulted  on  the  propriety  of  admitting 
ese  claims,  '  I  remember,'  said  he,  '  to  have  read  in 


98  FLOWERS    OE    WIT. 

history,  that  Rome  was  saved  by  geese  ;  but  I  doi 
recollect  that  any  of  them  were  made  consuls.' 

HANNIBAL. 

280.  Fabius  Maximus  cautiously  avoided  coming  j 
a  general  action  with  him,  and  exhausted  his  patien 
by  protracting  the  war.  Fabius  encamped  upon  j 
mountains  ;  but  Terentius,  his  colleague,  rashly  figl 
jng  with  Hannibal,  Fabius  was  obliged  to  descend  fro 
his  lofty  station.  He  rescued  Terentius,  and  drove  tl 
Carthagenians  back  with  great  loss.  *  The  cloud: 
said  Hannibal,  '  which  have  been  so  long  hoverii 
over  the  mountains,  have  at  length  broke,  and  produ 
ed  a  violent  storm.' 

281.  In  a  conference  with  Scipio  Africanus,  he  tal 
ed  of  the  greatest  generals.  Scipio  asked  whom 
thought  the  first  in  the  world.  He  aftswered,  '  Ale 
ander  the  Great.'  '  And  the  second  ?'  '  Pyrrhus,  ki 
of  Epirus.'  '  And  the  third  ?'  '  Myself,'  said  Hannib; 
*  Suppose  you  had  conquered  me,'  said  Scipio,  '  whe: 
would  you  have  placed  yourself?'  'I  should  ha 
placed  myself  first,'  was  the  reply.  What  must 
have  thought  of  Scipio,  who  vanquished  him  ! 

282.  Antiochus,  king  of  Syria,  showed  Hannibal  tl 
large  army  he  had  raised  to  fight  against  the  Romar 
He  drew  out  in  review  before  him  the  foot  soldiei 
glittering  with  gold  and  silver,  and  the  cavalry  capai 
soned  with  purple  trappings.  The  vain-glorious  mo 
arch  beheld  Hannibal  surveying  all  this  pompous  p. 
rade  in  silence,  and  presuming  upon  his  approbate 
said,  '  Do  you  not  think  that  such  troops  as  these  w 
be  enough  for  the  Romans.'  '  Yes,'  said  Hannib* 
who  well  knew  how  to  estimate  show  without  strengt 
'  they  will  be  enough  for  the  Romans,  if  the  Roma 
were  even  ten  times  more  avaricious  than  they  are.' 


FLOWERS    OF    WlT.  99 

SIR  JOHN  HARRINGTON, 

283.  Now  chiefly  known  as  the  translator  of  Ariosto's 
rlando  Furioso.    He  was  distinguished  in  the  court 

Elizabeth  for  his  wit  and  gallantry.  He  was  the 
[artial  of  the  day,  as  he  published  a  book  of  neat 
aigrams.  His  royal  mistress  was  pleased  with  his 
oetry.  On  his  return  from  Ireland,  and  not  long  be- 
»re  her  death,  sir  John  relates,  that  '  she  bade  the 
chbishop  ask  me  (at  the  time  when  the  fate  of  Essex 
jng  heavy  upon  her  mind,)  if  I  had  seen  Tyrone.  I 
plied,  that  I  had  seen  him  with  the  lord  deputy  Es- 
x.  She  looked  up,  with  much  grief  in  her  counten- 
vce,  and  said,  '  O  now  il  mindeih  me  that  you  was 
ie,  who  saw  this  manne  elsewhere  ;'  and  hereat  she 
ropped  a  tear,  and  smote  hf.r  bosom.  She  held  in  her 
md  a  golden  cuppe,  which  she  often  put  to  her 
ppes  ;  but  in  sooth  her  heart  seemeth  too  full  to  lack 
ore  flllinge  *  *  *.  Her  majesty  inquired  of  some 
atters  which  1  had  written  ;  and  as  she  was  pleased 
i  note  my  fanciful  braine,  I  was  not  unheedtui  to  feede 
?r  humoure,  and  reade  some  verses,  whereat  she  smil- 
d  once,  and  was  pleased  to  saie.— ■'  When  thou  dosfe 
e\e  creepyinge  time  at  thy  gate,  these  fooleries  will 
lease  thee  lesse.  I  am  past  my  relishe  for  such  mat- 
:rs  ;  thou  seest  my  bodie  meate  doth  not  suit  me  well, 
have  eaten  but  one  ill-tasted  cake  since  yesternight.'  ' 
-Extract  of  a  Letter  from  Sir  John  to  his  Lady,  Dec* 
\  1602. 

HENRY  HEADLEY. 

284.  He  was  the  author  of  'Select  Beauties  of  an- 
ent  English  Poetry,'  and  of  some  delightful  poems. 
is  conversation  like  his  writings,  was  lich  in    pointed 

«iarks,  and  enlivened  with  flashes  of  wit.  Being  ask- 
1  the  literary  character  of  Ken  Johnson, '  He  suow- 
i,'  said  Headly,  '  the  patience  of  a  drudge  and  the  at- 
inments  of  a  pedant,  but  rarely  the  originality  of  a 
an  of  genius  :  and  from  his  constant    habit  of  walk- 


100  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

ing  on  the  stilts  of  authority  and  prescription,  he    so 
lost  the  free  use  of  his  legs.' 

285.  Speaking  of    an    injudicious  abridgment 
Quarles's  Emblems,  put  into  modern  language,  he   e 
claimed,"  Alas,  poor  Quarles,  how  are  you  disguis 
and  degraded  !     This  is  like  chaining  Columbus  to 
oa  r,  or  making  John  duke  of  Marlborough  a  train- ba 
corporal." 

286.  Headley,  although  not  so  enthusiastic  an  adm 
cr  of  Virgil  as  his  friend  Benwell,  yet  was  very  foi 
of  all  his  original  beauties.  '  There  are  delicate  louc 
es,  and  discriptions  of  Virgil,'  said  Headley,  'whi 
even  the  most  skilful  painter  cannot  represent,  ai 
which  have  escaped  the  observation  of  many  of  tl 
commentators,  and  probably  of  more  than  one  critk 
On  being  called  upon  for  an  instance,  he  repeated  tl 
following  lines  : — 

*  Vide  Hecuban.  scntumque  nurus,  Priamumque  per  an 
Sanguine  f&danlem  quos  ipse  sacra verat,  ignes.' 

'  It  is  remarkable,'  added  he,  'that  Dr.  Blair,  in  h 
lectures,  expressly  selected  this  passage,  as  an  ii 
stance  of  Virgil's  talents  for  poetical  description  ;  bi| 
this  exquisite  beauty,  the  quos  ipse  sacraverat  igncs,  h 
has  omitted  to  notice.'  This  remark  was  thought  b| 
the  company  present,  to  be  worthy  of  the  refined  tasl! 
and  acumen  of  Quintilian,  or  Joseph  Warton. 

DR.  HENNEKER. 

287.  Lord  Chath  am  asked  Dr.  Henneker  for  a  d< 
scription  of  wit.     'My    lord,'   said  he,     'wit   is  lit 
what  a  pension  would  be,  if  given  by  your  lordship 
your  humble  servant — a  good  thing  well  applied.' 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  101 

HENRY  IV- 

The  French, 'before  their  mincte  were  poisoned  by  the 
istilent  follies  of  the  Revolution,  entertained 
[■  none  of  their  kings  a  greater  regard  than  for  Hen- 
IV.  This  predilection  was  founded  upon  just 
bunds  ;  for  he  was  affable,  generous,  and  brave ; 
d  had  a  capacity  equally  well  adapted  to  peace  or 
tr.  Aided  by  the  sagacious  councils  of  the  duke  of 
lly,  his  friend  and  minister,  he  laid  the  found- 
on  of  that  grandeur  to  which  the  French  empire  af- 
•wards  rose.  He  made  many  a  jocose,  and  many  a 
inted  speech  ;  but  never  expressed  himself  in  terms 
malignity. 

288.  When  he  was  dangerously  ill,  in  the  year 
98,  he  said  to  Sully  :  'My  friend,  I  have  no  fear  of 
ath  ;  you  have  seen  me  face  it  a  hundred  times  ; 
t  I  regret  losing  my  life  before  I  have  been  able,  by 
verning  my  subjects  well,  and  easing  their  burthens, 
convince  them  that  I  love  them  as  much  as  I  do  my 
'n  children.' 

289.  Immediately  before  the  battle  of  Ivri  in  1590. 
nry  rode  along  the  ranks  of  his  army,  and    showed 

soldiers  his  helmet,  surmounted  with  a  plume  ot 
lite  feathers,  and  said,  with  an  ardour  which  he 
immunicated  :  'My  children,  look  here  ;  if  your 
mdards  are  lost,  this  is  the  rallying  point  ;  this  will 
id  you  to  victory  and  glory.' 

290.  After  this  battle,  in  which  he  was  victorious, 
;  jewels,  and  rich  dresses  of  the  duke  de  Joyeuse, 
neral  of  the  Catholics,  were  brought  to  him  ;  but  he 
clined  to' accept  them,  saying  in  a  true  spirit  of  a 
ro,  'It  is  the  part  of  players  to  be  vain  of  their  rich 
isses ;  but  the  true  ornaments  of  a  general  are, 
jrage  and  presence  of  mind  in  battle,  and  moderation 
er  a  victory.' 

291.  He  was  once  troubled  with  a  fit  of  the  gout ; 

9 


102  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

and  the  Spanish  ambassador  coining  then  to  visit  hi 
and  saying  he  was  very  sorry  to  see  his  majesty 
lame  ;  he  answered,  '  As  lame  as  I  am,  if  there  be  < 
casion,  your  master,  the  king  of  Spain,  shall  no  sooi 
have  his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  than  he  shall  find  me 
horseback.' 

292.  Henry  IV.  said  to  a  Spanish  ambassador,  ' 
the  king  your  master  continues  his  aggressions,  I  ; 
resolved  to  take  up  arms  ;  and  I  shall  soon  reach  W 
drid.'  '  So  you  may,  sir,'  said  the  ambassador  ;  '  I 
recollect  that  Francis  I.  was  there  before  you.'  '  F 
that  very  reason,'  retorted  Henry, '  I  will  go  there 
avenge  his  wrongsand  my  own.' 

293.  The  testimony  given  to  the  martial  abilities 
Henry  IV.  by  the  duke  of  Parma,  one  of  the  great 
generals  of  his  age,  was  very  characteristic  of 
keenness  of  his  views,  and  the  velocity  of  his  mo« 
ments.  '  Other  generals,'  said  the  duke, '  carry  on  w 
like  lions  and  tigers  ;  but  Henry  carries  it  on  like 
eagle.' 

294.  The  magistrates  of  Paris  received  orders 
entertain  the  ambassadors  from  the  Swiss  Cantoi 
As  this  was  likely  to  be  a  great  expense,  they  ask, 
leave  of  Henry  to  lay  a  tax  upon  the  cisterns  ai 
pumps,  in  order  to  defray  it.  '  I  beg,'  said  the  co, 
siderate  monarch,  '  you  will  find  some  other  method; 
feast  my  allies  ;  do  you  not  know  that  it  is  the  excl. 
sive  privilege  of  our  blessed  Saviour  to  change  wat 
into  wine  ?' 

295.  When  a  person  endeavoured  to  convince  hii 
that  his  excessive  clemency  in  pardoning  all  his  en 
mies  would  prove  injurious,  he  observed,  'You  m; 
catch  more  flies  with  a  spoonful  of  honey,  than  with 
(on  of  vinegar.' 

29:3.  Henry  IV.  walked  one  day  with  the  duke  < 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  103 

iayenne,  who  had  disputed  his  right  to  the  crown  of 
ranee,  and  made  war  against  him.  The  duke  was 
>rpulent,  and  a  very  bad  walker  ;  and  the  king  en- 
yed  tiring  him,  by  making  him  walk  fast  for  a  con- 
derable  time  :  when  the  king  at  last  stopped,  he  said 
the  duke  with  his  usual  pleasantry,  *  Cousin,  we  are 
>w  even  ;  I  have  had  my  revenge.' 

[297.  Henry  hearing  it  observed,  that  James  I.  of 
ngland  was  a  second  Solomon,  '  True,'  said  he,  '  I 
ink  he  is  the  son  of  David  the  fiddler,'  alluding  to 
avid  Rizzio. 

298.  Henry  received  congratulations  from  the  depu- 
;s  of  the  parliament  of  Paris  for  a  victory  he  had 
ined.  The  king  directed  their  attention  to  the  mar- 
al  de  Biron,  who  had  greatly  contributed  to  his  suc- 
ss.  '  Gentlemen,'  said  the  king,  *  this  is  the  hero 
iom  I  present  with  equal  pleasure  to  my  friends  and 
I  my  enemies.' 

299.  He  was  as  intrepid  as  he  was  affable  and  fa- 
tious.  His  friends  were  alarmed  for  his  safety,  and 
rnonstrated  with  him,  that  in  the  midst  of  conspira- 

5,  he  ought  to  take  more  care  of  his  person,  and  not 
out  so  frequently  alone,  or  at  least  not  so  ill  attend- 
'  Fear,'  said  he,  ought  never  to  have  a  place  in  a 
yal  mind.  Those  who  fear  death  will  never  attempt 
r  life  ;  and  those  who  despise  life,  will  always  be 
sters  of  mine,  although  a  thousand  guards  were  set 
prevent  them.  None  but  tyrants  ought  to  live  in 
nstant  fear.' 

JOHN  HEYWOOD. 

He  was  a  favourite  at  court,  both  in  the  reign  of  Hen- 
VIII.  and  Queen  Mary,  as  a  poet  and  a  jester.  He 
s  one  of  the  first  who  wrote  English  plays. 

J00.  He  wrote  a  work  called  '  The  spider  and  the 


104  FLOWERS  OP  WIT. 

Fly,  a  Parable,'  in  1556.  It  contains  no  less  thai 
seventy-seven  chapters  :  at  the  beginning  of  every  on 
of  these  chapters  is  a  portrait  of  the  author,  eithc 
standing  or  sitting  before  a  table,  with  a  book  upon  i 
and  a  window  near  it  hung  round  with  cobwebs,  flit 
and  spiders. 

Can  there  be  found  in  the  annals  of  authorship,  a 
instance  of  such  consummate  vanity  ? 

301.  Queen  Mary  asked  him,  '  what  wind  blew  hii 
to  court.'  He  answered,  '  He  was  blown  there  by  hv 
winds  ;  one  was  to  see  your  majesty.'  '  We  than, 
you  for  that,'  said  the  queen  ;  '  but  pray  tell  me,  whj 
was  the  other  ?'  '  the  other,'  said  he,  '  was,  that  yoi 
majesty  might  see  me.' 

302.  When  he  saw  a  gentleman  riding  with  a  lady  (, 
doubtful  character  sitting  behind  him,  he  said,  '  Truh 
sir,  I  should  say  that  your  horse  was  overloaded,  if* 
did  not  perceive  that  the  lady  you  carry  is  very  light 

303.  When  it  was  observed,  that  the  number  of  law 
yers  would  ruin  the  profession, '  By  no  means,'  said  hi 
k  for  the  more  spaniels  in  the  field,  the  more  game.' 

304.  Dining  one  day  with  a  gentleman  whose  beti 
was  better  hopped  than  malted,  the  gentleman  aske 
Hey  wood,  how  he  liked  his  beer.  '  By  the  faith  of  in 
body  !'  said  he,  '  it  is  very  well  hopped  ;  but  if  it  hal 
hopped  a  little  further,  it  had  hopped  into  the  water.' 

305.  He  compared  severe  critics  upon  the  works  < 
authors,  '  to  those  unmannerly  guests,  who,  when  thei 
have  been  well  and  kindly  feasted,  flinch  away,  nevt 
giving  thanks,  but  dispraising  and  depraving  the 
courteous  entertainment.' 

BISHOP  HOUGH. 

30G.  A  young  gentleman,  whose  family  had  heei, 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT,  105 

ill  acquainted  with  Dr.  John  Hough,  bishop  of  Wor- 
ter,  in  making  the  tour  of  England,  called  to  pay  his 
pects  to  his  lordship  as  he  passed  by  his  seat  in  the 
mtry  :  it  happened  to  be  dinner  time,  and  the  room 
I  of  company.  The  bishop,  however,  received  him 
:h  great  familiarity ;  but  the  servant,  in  reaching  him 
hair,  threw  down  a  curious  weather-glass,  that  had 
j>t  twenty  guineas,  and  broke  it.  The  gentleman  was 
ier  infinite  concern,  and  began  to  excuse  the  servant, 
i  make  an  apology  for  being  himself  the  occasion  of 
accident ;  when  the  bishop,  with  great  good  nature 
grrupted  him  :  '  Be  not  under  any  .concern,'  said  he, 
iling  ;  '  for  I  am  much  beholden  to  you  for  it.  We 
ve  had  a  very  dry  season,  and  now  I  hope  we  shall 
ve  rain.  I  never  saw  the  glass  so  low  in  my  life  !' 
The  bishop  was  at  that  time  more  than  fourscore, 
le  combination  of  so  great  an  age,  with  such  perfect 
od  humour  was  surely  admirable. 

HENRY  HOWARD. 

p07.  He  was  earl  of  Northampton,  and  lord  privy 
id  to  king  James  I.  The  king  took  great  delight  in 
(inverting  with  him  at  his  table.  The  king  asked  him 
ion  a  sudden  ;  '  My  lord,  have  you  not  a  desire  to 
fe  Rome?'  The  earl  answered,  'Yes  indeed,  sir.' 
he  king  said, '  And  why  V  The  earl  answered,  '  Be- 
luse  it  was  the  seat  of  the  greatest  monarchy,  and  the 
ninary  of  the  bravest  men  in  the  world,  whilst  it  was 
athen  ;  and  then,  secondly,  because  afterwards  it 
is  the  see  of  so  many  holy  bishops  in  the  primitive 
urch,  most  of  them  martyrs.'  The  king  would  not 
ve  over  the  conversation,  and  said,  '  And  for  nothing 
?e  ?'  The  earl  answered  ; , '  Yes,  for  two  things 
Dre  ;  the  one,  to  see  him  who,  they  say,  has  so  great 
power  to  forgive  other  men  their  6ins  ;  and  the  other, 
hear  anti-christ  say  his  creed.' 

1308.  When  peace  was  renewed  with  the  French  in 

[igland,  several  of  the  great  counsellors  were  present- 

9* 


106  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

ed  by  the  French  with  jewels  ;  but  the  lord  Henrj 
Howard,  although  a  counsellor,  was  omitted.  Where 
upon  the  king-  said  to  him, '  My  lord,  how  happens  i 
thai  you  have  not  a  jewel  as  well  as  the  rest  ?'  Upor 
which  question,  my  iord  answered,  with  an  admirabh 
equivoque,  alluding  to  the  well-known  fable  in  iEsop 
jYon  sum  Gallus,  itaque  non  reperi  gemmam . 

HOWARD  THE  PHILANTHROPIST. 

309.  He  had  several  interviews  with  Joseph  II.  em 
peror  of  Germany.  ^Howard  took  the  freedom  to  com 
plain  of  the  comfortless  and  unwholesome  state  of  tin 
Austrian  and  Hungarian  prisons.  The  emperor,  whi 
valued  himself  upon  a  code  of  penal  laws  more  effica 
cious  but  less  sanguinary  than  the  English,  was  nettled 
and  replied  :  '  I  don't  use  the  prisoners  worse  than  yoi 
do  in  England,  where  you  hang  them  up  by  dozens  a; 
a  time.'  '  Very  true,'  replied  Howard  ;  '  but  permit 
me  to  assure  your  majesty,  that  I  had  rather  be  hangea 
in  England,  than  live  in  your  German  dungeons.'  He 
soon  took  his  leave.  *  In  truth,'  said  the  emperor  tc 
prince  Kaunitz,  '  this  Englishman  is  no  flatterer.' 

LORD  HUNSDON. 

310.  Lord  Hunsdon,  a  distinguished  nobleman  in  the 
court  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  said,  '  To  have  the  courage 
to  notice  an  affront,  is  to  be  upon  a  level  with  an  adver- 
sary :  to  have  the  charity  to  forgive  it,  is  to  be  above 
him.' 

JOHN  HUNTER. 

311.  The  celebrated  John  Hunter  was  a  man  of  such 
wonderful  diligence,  that  he  has  often  told  his  friends, 
that  for  thirty  years,  summer  and  winter,  the  sun  nevei 
found  him  in  bed.  He  used  to  say,  *  I  never  have  any 
difficulties  ;  a  thing  either  can  be  done,  or  it  cannot. 
If  it  can  be  done.  1  mav  do  it  a,"  well  as  another,  if 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  107 

I  take  equal  pains.  If  it  cannot  be  done,  I  will  not 
sropt  to  do  it.' 

A  GRAND  IDEA. 

512.  The  chief  of  a  small  canton  of  Indians,  upog 
banks  of  the  Mississippi  in  Louisiana,  every  morn- 

as  soon  as  he  issues  from  his  cabin,  extending  his 
n  and  moving  it,  says,  '  Thus  1  trace  the  path  which 
sun  may  describe  in  the  course  of  the  day.' 

POPE  INNOCENT  VII. 

513.  Andrea  Marteneti,  a  celebrated  artist,  paint- 
by  order  of  pope  Innocent  VII.   the  four  Cardinal 

rtues,  with  their  opposite  Vices.  The  pope  not  re- 
rding  him  as   he  expected,  he  said,   '  Holy  father, 

II  1  paint  one  more  vice,  called  Ingratitude  ?* 
es,'  answered  the  pope,  '  if  you  add  another  virtue, 
ich  is  Patience.' 

SIR  JOSEPH  JEKYLL. 

314.  Two  very  lovely,  but  bashful  girls,  had  a  cause 
=ome  importance  depending  at  Westminster,  that  re- 
ared their  personal  appearance.  They  were  relations 
sir  Joseph  Jekyll,  and  on  this  formidable  occasion 
;y  desired  his  company  and  countenance  at  the  court. 

Joseph  attended  accordingly  ;  and  the  cause  being 
sned,  the  judge  demanded,  '  Whether  he  was  to  en- 
e  these  ladies  spinsters.'  'No,  my  lord,'  said  sir 
seph,  '  they  are  lilies  of  the  valley  ;  they  toil  not, 
ther  do  they  spin  ;  yet  you  see,  that  no  monarch,  in 

his  glory,  was  ever  arrayed  like  one  of  these.' 

DR.  JOHNSON. 

315.  A  young  clergyman,  very  deficient  in  learning, 
nplahiing  to  Dr.  Johnson,  that  some  how  or  other  he 


103  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

had  lost  all  his  Greek  ;  '  I  suppose/  said  the  docte 
'  it  was  at  the  time  I  lost  my  great  estate  in  Yorkshire 

316.  The  doctor  treated  Mrs.   SiddoMs,  when  si 
called  upon  him  in   Bolt  Court,  with  the  most  mark* 
politeness.     Frank,  his  servant,  could  not  immediately 
'bring  her  a  chair  ;  '  You  see,  madam,'  said  the  doctor 
4  wherever  you  go,  how  difficult  it  is  to  find  seats. 

317.  While  he  was  in  the  Isle  of  Mull,  a  very  drearj 
and  barren  place,  he  saw  something  moving  upor 
the  ground,  and  asked  Boswell  what  it  was.  '  A  crow, 
was  the  answer.  '  What  !'  said  the  doctor,  '  have  you 
wings,  and  do  you  stay  here  ?' 

318.  Dr.  Johnson  insisted  upon  the  necessity  of  the 
subordination  of  rank  in  society.  '  Sir,'  said  he  to  Mr 
Boswell,  '  there  is  one  Mrs.  Macauley  in  this  town,  a 
great  republican.  One  day,  when  I  was  at  her  house. 
I  put  on  a  very  grave  countenance,  and  said, '  Madam. 
I  am  become  a  convert  to  your  system.  To  give  you  a 
decisive  proof  I  am  in  earnest ;  here  is  a  very  sensible, 
well-behaved  fellow-citizen,  your  footman,  I  desire 
that  he  may  he  allowed  to  sit  down  and  dine  with  us. 
She  has  never  liked  me  since  this  proposal.  Your  lev- 
ellers wish  to  level  down  as  far  as  themselves,  but  thej 
cannot  bear  levelling  up  to  themselves. 

319.  WThen  he  had  finished  a  part  of  his  tragedy  o, 
Irene,  he  read  some  passages  of  it  to  his  friend  Mr. 
Walmsley,  who  was  registrar  of  the  spiritual  court.  Mr 
Walmsley  objected  to  his  having  brought  his  heroine 
into  great  distress  in  a  very  early  part  of  the  play, 
and  asked  him,  'How  can  you  possibly  contrive  tc 
plunge  her  into  deeper  calamity?'  Johnson  replied: 
'Sir,  I  can  put  her  into  the  spiritual  court.' 

320.  Mr.  Ogilvie,  a  Scotchman,  diffuse  in  the  praise; 
of  his  native  country,  assured  Dr.  Johnson  that  Scot 
land   had   a  great  many  noble   and   wild   prospect? 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  1  v3 

hnson,— '  I  believe,  sir.  you  have  a  great  many. 
>rway  too  has  noble  wild  prospects.  But,  sir,  let  me 
I  you,  the  noblest  prospect  a  Scotchman  ever  sees,  is 
;  high  road  that  leads  him  to  England  !' 

321.  The  doctor,  during  his  visits  to  Oxford,  pas- 
d  many  hours   with   Mr.  Thomas  Warton  in  Trinity 

bflege ,  and  was  much  pleased  with  the  garden  and 
Jrary  there.  Some  person  expressed  his  preference 
Christ-Church  library.  'Sir,'  said  the  doctor,  'you 
lygoto  Christ-Church  library  to  prance,  but  Trin- 
library  is  the  place  for  study.'' 

322.  It  was  a  favourite  maxim  of  the  doctor,  that 
e  pleasure  of  mental  or  bodily  exertion  was  only  in 
oportion  to  the  reward  that  would  attend  it.  Sir 
shua  Reynolds  talked  to  him  of  the  gratification  he 
dfelt  in  working  hard  to  finish  one  of  his  pictures, 
me  ladies  were  present  at  this  conversation.  'Sir,' 
d  Johnson,  'you  had  no  pleasure  in  the  mere  work  ; 
u  were  looking  to  the  final  cause,  for  which  you 
led.'  Then  turning  to  the  ladies  in  a  courteous 
inner  ;  'Possibly,'  continued  he,  'we  may  discuss 
is  subject  in  a  manner  too  abstruse  to  be  intelligible 
all  of  you,  ladies  ;  but,  to  make  it  more   clear,  you 

ive  only  to  recollect,  that  it  was  not  for  the  mere 
easure  of  swimming,  that  Leander  was  so  often 
iuced  to  cross  the  Hellespont.' 

323.  Mr.  Boswell  talked  to  him  of  the  expulsion  o 
5  six  methodists  from  the  university  of  Oxford. — 
hnson  said,  that  their  expulsion  was  just  and  proper. 
Vhat  have  they  to  do  at  an  university,  who  are  not 
lling  to  be  taught,  but  will  presume  to  teach  ?  Sir, 
ey  were  examined,  and  found  to  be  mighty  ignorant 
Hows.'  Boswell, — '  But  was  it  not  hard,  sir,  to  ex- 
1  them  ?  for  I  am  told  they  were  good  beings.' — 
hnson, — '  Sir,  they  might  be  good  beings  ;  but  they 
ire  not  fit  to  be  in  the  university.  A  cow  is  a  very 
od  being  in  a  field,  but  we  turn  her  out  of  a  garden? 


110  FLOWERS    OF    wSt. 

324.  Mrs.  Piozzi  said  df  him,  '  that  his  attention 
veracity  was  without  equal  or  example  :  and  when 
mentioned  Clarissa  as  a  perfect  character,  *  On  tl 
contrary,'  said  he,  'you  may  observe,  there  is  alwa; 
something  which  she  prefers  to  truth.'  Fielding 
Amelia,  in  his  opinion,  was  the  most  pleasing  heroii 
of  all  romances.' 

325.  When  the  learned  professions  were  talked  of 
1  Sco  .>,'  said  he,  '  to  put  your  behaviour  under  tl 
dominion  of  canters.  Never  think  it  clever  to  c< 
physic  a  mean  study,  or  law  a  dry  one  ;  or  ask  a  bat 
of  seven  years  old,  which  way  his  genius  leads  hirr 
when  we  all  know,  that  a  boy  of  seven  years  old  h 
no  genius  for  any  thing  except  a  peg-top  and  an  appl 
pie.  But  fix  on  some  business  where  much  money  mi 
be  got,  and  little  virtue  risked.  Follow  that  busine 
steadily  ;  and  do  not  live  as  Roger  Ascham  says  tl 
wits  do — '  Men  know  not  how  ;  and  at  last  die  obscur 
ly.  men  mark  not  where.'' ' 

326.  The  following  most  severe  epigram  is  said  i 
have  been  written  by  Dr.  Johnson  before  he  was  pel 
sioned  : 

"  Augustus  lives  in  Maro's  polish'd  strain, 

And  Spenser's  muse  adorns  Eliza's  reign, 

The  deeds  of  mighty  George  great  Whitehead  sing! 

God  always  forms  the  poets  for  the  kings."' 

327.  A  person  endeavouring  to  prove  to  Dr.  Johnsoi 
that  an  atheist  may  be  a  man  of  a  good  moral  characte 
c  Sir,'  said  the  doctor,  '  when  a  man  rejects  his  alieg 
ance.  to  his  great  Creator,  what  has  he  to  restrain  hir 
from  the  perpetration  of  crimes?  If  an  atheist  was  t 
drink  tea  with  rae>  I  should  look  very  carefully  aftc< 
my  spoons.' 

320.  He  conversed  with  sir  Joshua  Reynolds  upo. 
the  subject  of  friendship.  '  If  a  man,'  said  Johnsor 
:  does  not  make  new  acquaintance,  as  he  advances  ii 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  1  1  1 

I  he  will  soon  find  himself  alone.  A  man,  sir,  should 
;ep  his  friendships  in  constant  repair.' 

|329.  Mrs.  Thrale,  who  has  endeavoured  to  display 
br  own  talents  rather  than  to  show  off  Dr.  Johnson  to 
[vantage  in  her  account  of  him,  was  rather  of  a  di- 


lutive size.     One  day  she  appeared  in  complete 

f,  and  solicited  the 
or  some  time  the  doctor  smiled  at  her  vanity, 


ourning,  and  solicited  the  doctor's  approbation  of  her 


id  said  nothing.  Not  deterred  by  his  silence,  she  re- 
med  the  subject  ;  and  repeatedly  asked,  '  What  do 
>u  think  of  my  dress,  doctor?  what  do  you  think  ot 
y  dress  V  '  Madam,'  at  length  responded  the  doclor, 
our  dress  does  not  suit  your  figure  :  consider,  you 
e  an  insect,  and  that  of  all  insects  the  most  gaily 
essed  are  the  most  agreeable  to  the  eye.' 

SIR  WILLIAM  JONES. 

330.  Dr.  Johnson,  with  justice,  styled  him  *  The 
DSt  enlightened  of  the  sons' of  men.'  He  was  distin- 
ished  by  his  early  great  proficiency  as  a  linguist, 
hen  he  was  in  France,  he  was  introduced  at  the 
urt  of  Versailles  with  a  curious  speech.  '  I  inlro- 
ice  to  your  majesty,'  said  the  English  ambassador  to 
|e  grand  monarque,  *  a  gentleman  who  understands 
i  languages,  except  the  native  language  of  his  father.' 
may  be  necessary  to  add,  that  his  father  was  a 
elchman 

BEN  JONSON . 

St.  John's  college,  Cambridge,  may  boast  of  the 
nour  of  part  of  his  education.  After  he  left  the  urii- 
rsity,  he  passed  through  many  occupations  ;  for  he 
as  a  bricklayer,  a  soldier,  a  player,  and  amidst  them 
a  poet. 

13 I.  A  vintner,  to  whom  he  was  in  debt,  invited  him 
dinner  :  and  told  him  that  if  he  would  give  him  an 


112  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 


immediate  answer  to  the  following  questions,  he  wool 
forgive  him  his  debt.  The  vimner  asked  him,  wh 
God  is  best  pleased  with  ;  what  the  devil  is  best  plea 
ed  with  ;  what  the  world  is  best  pleased  with  ;  ai 
what  he  was  best  pleased  with.  Ben,  without  the  lea 
hesitation,  gave  the  following  reply;  which,  as  anil 
proniotu,  deserves  no  small  share  of  praise  : 

"  God  is  be9t  pleas'd,  when  men  forsake  their  sin  ; 
The  devil's  best  pleas'd,  when  they  persist  therein  ; 
The  world's  best  pleas'd,  when  thou  dost  sell  good  win 
And  you're  best  pleas'd,  when  I  do  pay  for  mine." 

JOSEPH  II.  EMPEROR  OF  GERMANS 

332.  He  was  a  model  of  liberality,  affability,  ai 
condescension.  When  he  was  at  Paris  on  a  visit  to  fc 
sister  the  queen  of  France,  in  1777,  he  honoured  no  oj 
with  a  visit  who  did  not  experience  his  condescend^ 
manners  and  his  bounty.  He  frequently  said  to  tho 
who  were  anxious  to  show  their  deference  to  his  exal! 
ed  rank  :  *  Be  covered,  you  put  me  under  restrain' 
put  on  your  hat,  or  I  shall  take  off  mine.  Go  not  to  ti] 
door  with  me,  your  time  is  precious.  Tell  me  t] 
truth,  I  seek  to  know  it  ;  converse  with  me  freely  ;  di 
guise  nothing,  for  I  wish  to  be  informed.' 

333.  An  old  Austrian  officer,  who  had  a  pension  veil 
insufficient  for  the  demands  of  his  family,  explained  1 
the  emperor  his  indigent  situation,  and  entreated  1  j 
compassion  ;  saying  that  he  had  ten  children  alivj 
The  emperor,  wishing  to  know  the  truth  of  this  repr 
sentation,  went  to  the  officer's  house  in  disguise  ;  an 
instead  of  ten,  found  eleven  children  there.  'Til 
eleventh  child,'  said  the  old  officer,  '  is  a  poor  orptu  1| 
that  I  took  into  my  house  from  motives  of  compassion] 
The  emperor  immediately  ordered  a  hundred  florins  | 
be  given  to  each  of  the  children. 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  113 

KINGS  OF  ENGLAND 

WILLIAM  RUFUS. 

334.  The  monarch  who  built  the  Tower  of  London 
id  Westminster  Hall  must  have  had  magnificent  ideas, 
(though  he  was  neither  eminent  for  wisdom  nor  good- 

ss,  an  instance  is  recorded  of  his  intrepidity.  He 
anted  to  go  to  sea  in  stormy  weather,  and  the  pilot  of 
e  vessel  in  which  he  embaiked  expressed  apprehen- 
ds of  danger.  He  still  persisted  in  his  design.  'Did 
)u  ever,'  said  he  to  the  pilot,  *  hear  of  a  king's  being 
owned  ?' 

RICHARD  CGEUR  DE  LION. 

When  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  first  proposed  a  voy- 
e  to  recover  the  Holy  Land  from  the  yoke  of  the  in- 
lels,  Fulke,  curate  of  Newel ly  a  zealous  preacher  of 
crusades,  advised  the  king  to  get  rid  of  his  three 
yourite  daughters  :  Pride,  Avarice,  and  Voluptuous- 
ss. 

335.  The  king's  answer  well  illustrates  the  charac- 
of  the  times.     '  You  counsel  well,'  said  Richard  ; 

ind  I  hereby  dispose  of  the  first  to  the  knights  tern- 
ars,  of  the  second  to  the  Benedictine  monks,  and  of 
third  to  my  prelates.' 

HENRY  IV.  OF  ENGLAND. 

33G.  A  servant  of  prince  Henry,  (afterwards  Hen- 

V.)  was  arraigned  before  sir  William  Gascoigne, 

d  chief  justice  of  the  King's  Bench,  for  felony.    The 

ince  endeavoured  to  take  his  servant  away,  and  came 

to  the  bench  with    such  fury,  that   the  beholders 

ught  he  would  have  struck  the  judge.     But  he  kept 

seat,  preserved   his   temper,  and,  without  delay, 

tnmitted  the  prince  prisoner  to   the  King's  bench, 

ere  to  remain  till  the  pleasure  of  the  king  his  father 

10 


114  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

should  be  known.  An  officious  courtier  ran  to  infoti 
the  king,  probably  thinking  to  move  his  anger  agair 
the  lord  chief  justice  for  such  an  indignity  offered 
the  heir  apparent ;  but  great  was  his  surprise  at  t!! 
king's  observation.  *  I  thank  God,'  said  he,  '  for  I 
great  goodness  in  giving  me  at  the  same  time,  a  judj 
who  has  the  courage  to  administer  the  laws,  and  a  s 
who  has  the  disposition  to  obey  them.' 

HENRY  VII. 

337  Sir  Robert  D'mock,  at  the  coronation  of  Hen 
VI  i.,  came  or  horseback  into 'Westminster  Hall,  whe 
the  king  dined,  and  casting  his  gauntlet  on  the  groun 
challenged  any  one  who  dare  question  the  king's  rig 
to  the  crown.  The  k»ng,  pretending  he  was  a  Strang 
to  the  custom  of  giving  such  a  challenge,  asked  a  sta 
<Her-by  what  the  knight  said.  The  answer  was,  '  I 
challenges  any  man  to  fight  with  him  who  dares  de 
your  highness  to  be  the  lawful  king  of  England.'  * 
DimockV  said  Henry,  will  not  fight  with  such  a  one 
will.' 

338.  Dr.  Heylin,  in  his  Cosmography,  says,  '  The 
goes  a  tale,  that  Henry  VII.,  who  had  been  brought 
in  a  private  manner  in  the  country,  being  once  pressi 
by  some  of  his  council  to  pursue  his  title  to  the  crov 
of  France,  returned  this  answer,  That  France  inden 
was  a  flourishing  and  gallant  kingdom  ;  but  Englarj 
in  his  mind,  was  as  fine  a  seat  for  a  country  gentlem, 
as  any  could  be  found  in  Europe.' 

JAMES  I. 

339.  To  his  other  titles  he  might  have  added  the 
of  King  of  pedants  and  professor  of  punning.  He  v* 
as  remarkable  for  his  love  of  a  pun,  as  for  his  hatred 
a  drawn  sword  or  a  pipe  of  tobacco.  When  he  visit 
the    university  of  Cambridge,   be  heard  two  not 


FLOWERS    OF  WIT.  115 

'reachers,  sir  Isaac  Wake  and  Mr.  Sleep.  '  I  am  in- 
lined  to  sleep,''  said  he, '  when  I  hear  Wake,  and  to 
mke  when  I  hear  Sleep.' 

340.  Elizabeth  Weston,  a  young:  girl,  was  presented 
)  James  I.  as  an  English  prodigy,  because  she  was 
eeply  learned.  The  person  who  introduced  her, 
oasted  of  her  proficiency  in  antient  languages.  *  I 
m  assure  your  majesty,'  said  he,  '  that  she  can  both 
oeak  and  write  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew.'  '  These 
-e  rare  attainments  for  a  damsel,'  said  James  ;  '  but 
!ray  tell  me,  can  she  spin  ?' 

341.  Among  the  addresses  presented  to  James  1.  on 
Is  accession  to  the  English  throne,  was  one  from  the 
iwn  of  Shrewsbury,  in  which  the  loyal  inhabitants  ex- 
fjressed  a  wish,  that  his  majesty  might  reign  as  long  as 
\e  sun,  moon,  and  stars  endured,     l  Faith  mon,'  said 

(e  king  to  the  person  who  presented  it,  '  If  I  do  reign 
long,  my  son  must  reign  by  candle  light.'' 

CHARLES  II. 

(Reposing  upon  the  couch  of  indolence  and  sensuality 
Kter  the  dangers  and  the  sorrows  of  his  exile,  he  plan- 
ed measures  inconsistent  with  the  liberty  and  the  hap- 
Iness  of  his  people.  He  was  the  only  king  of  Eng- 
-tod  who  was  ever  a  pensioner  of  France.  He  pleased 
w  the  affability  of  his  manners  and  the  gaiety  of  his 
Inversation,  and  seemed  desirous  to  throw  off  the 
Ibes  of  royalty,  and  to  forget  that  he  was  a  sovereign, 

1342.  This  facetious  monarch  asked  Dr.   Stillingfleet 

|e  day, how  it  happened  that  he  always  read  his  ser- 

lons  before  him,  when  he  was  informed  that  he  always 

Reached  without  book  elsewhere.    The  doctor  toid  the 

ng,  ihat  the  awe  of  so  noble  an  audience,  andpariicu- 

riy  the  royal  presence,  made  him  afraid  to  trust  him- 

If.     '  But  in  return,  will  your  majesty  give  me  leave 

ask  you  a  question   too  ?  Why  do  you   read  your 

ecches,  when  you  can  have  none  of  the  same  reasons  V 


1  16  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

1  Why  truly,  doctor,'  replied  the  king, '  your  questic 
is  a  very  plain  one,  and  so  will  be  my  answer.  I  ha^ 
asked  my  subjects  so  often,  and  for  so  much  money,  th 
I  am  ashamed  to  look  them  in  the  face.' 

343.  Gregorio  Leti  being  one  day  at  Charles  II. 
levee,  the  king  said  to  him,  '  Leti,  1  hear  you  are  wri 
ing  the  history  of  the  court  of  England.'  '  Sir,'  sa 
he,  '  I  have  been  for  some  time  preparing  materials  f 
such  a  history.'  '  Take  care,'  said  the  kir>£, '  thatyo 
work  gives  no  offence.'  '  Sir,'  -eplied  Leti,  '  1  will  ( 
what  lean  ;  but  if  a  man  were  as  wise  as  Solomon,  1 
would  scarce  be  able  to  avoid  giving  some  offence 
'  Why  then,'  rejoined  the  king,  l  be  as  wise  as  Sol 
mon  ;  write  proverbs,  not  histories.' 

344.  Utility  only  can  give  value  to  the  exercise 
bodily  as  well  as  mental  activity.  When  Charles  I 
saw  a  man  climb  to  the  top  of  the  flag-staff  on  the  pinn 
cle  of  Salisbury  spire.  '  Odds  fish  !'  said  he, '  this  m; 
shall  have  a  patent,  that  nobody  may  do  this  but  hit 
self.' 

346.  Of  the  climate  of  England,  he  used  to  sa 
1  There  were  more  days  in  the  year,  and  more  hours 
the  day,  that  a  man  could  take  exercise  out  of  dooi 
than  in  any  country  he  had  ever  known.' 

346.  The  duke  of  Buckingham  gave  this  charact'i 
ef  the  two  royal  brothers,  Charles  and  James  ;  '  Th 
the  elder  could  see  things,  if  he  would  ;  and  the  youn; 
er  would  see  things  if  he  could.' 

347.  Lord  Rochester  said  of  Charles  II.,  'that I 
never  said  a  foolish  thing,  and  never  did  a  wise  one 
When  the  king  was  informed  of  this  tart  speech,  whi< 
certainly  conveyed  tolerably  just  ideas  of  his  characte 
he  observed,  that  the  reason  of  the  difference  was  thi 
*  My  conversation  is  my  own,  but  my  actions  are  ir 
ministers'.* 


FLOWERS    OP   WIT.  117 

KING  JAMES  II. 

348.  He  said  to  the  vice-chancellor  of  Oxford,  *  I 
ould  recommend  humility  to  youruniversitv,  and  that 
311  should  all  preach  by  heart.  The  preachers  be- 
)nd  sea  are  all  well  accepted  for  so  doing.  You  are 
deed  good  scholars  :  but  when  you  grow  up,  you 
ow  lazy,  and  lose  all  you  have  gotten.' 

349  A  gentleman  arriving  at  St.  Germain's  where 
ng  James  If.  kept  his  court,  went  to  wait  upon  him  ; 
hereupon  the  king  demanded  what  news  from  Eng- 
nd.  '  None  very  good,  sir.'  '  Well,  but  how  stands 
y  interest  there  ?'  says  the  king.  '  Why  truly,  sir,' 
iswered  the  gentleman,  '  it  is  very  considerable  among 
e  ladies,  for  I  believe  all  the  women  of  easy  virtue 
e  for  your  majesty.'  '  Ay,'  says  king  James,  '  and 
all  the  men  of  easy  virtue  there  were  for  me  too,  I 
ould  soon  be  in  the  palace  at  Whitehall. 

WILLIAM  III. 

350.  When  almost  a  boy,  as  stadtholder,  he  with- 
X)d  the  formidable  French  invasion  of  Holland  in 
572  ;  and  the  opposite  faction,  and  even  his  friends, 
ked  what  he  pretended  to.     '  To  defend  my  country,' 

{id  he  ;  '  to  make  a  stand  in  the  last  ditch,  and  to  die 
,ere.' 

351.  When  stadtholder,  and  engaged  in  a  war 
;ainst  France,  he  formed  the  design  of  laying  siege  to 
harleroy.     He  marched  to  execute  this  plan,  which 

one  suspected  ;    when  a  very   inquisitive   colonel 

tntured  to  ask  him  some  questions  upon  the  subject. 

|f  I  make  you  my  confidant,'  said  William,  '  will  you 

^t  communicate  my  designs  to  any  one  V    *  Most  as- 

redly  not,'  said  the  colonel.    '  Heavon,'  replied  Wil- 

m,  '  is  not  so  partial  in  the  distribution  of  its  favours 

you  imagine  ;  it  has  given  me  the  power  of  keeping 

?ecret.  as  well  as  yourself.' 

10* 


118  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

352.  Lord  Molesworth,  who  had  resided  at  Copei 
hagen  as  ambassador  from  England,  published  An  &\ 
count  of  Denmark,  a  valuable  work,  and  held  in  hig 
esteem.  In  it  he  made  some  severe  remarks  upon  tfc 
despotic  form  of  the  Danish  government.  The  king  < 
Denmark,  offended  at  what  he  termed  the  insolence  i 
the  author,  ordered  his  minister  at  the  court  of  Englan 
to  make  a  complaint  to  king  William  III.  '  Wh; 
would  you  have  me  do  ?'  said  king  William,  in  answt 
to  the  remonstrance  of  the  Dane.  >  Sir,'  replied  th 
minister,  '  if  your  majesty  had  complained  to  the  kin 
my  master  of  a  similar  offence,  ere  now  he  would  ha\ 
sent  to  you  the  author's  head.  '  This,'  replied  Willian 
*  I  have  neither  the  power  nor  the  inclination  to  do 
but  if  you  choose  it,  lord  Molesworth  shall  insert  whs 
you  have  just  now  suggested  to  me,  in  the  second  ed 
tioi)  of  his  work.' 

GEORGE  I. 

353.  On  a  journey  to  Hanover  the  coach  of  Georg 
I.  breaking  aown,  he  was  obliged  to  take  shelter  in  th 
next  country-house,  which  belonged  to  a  gentleman  a 
tached  to  the  Stuart  family.  The  king  was  shown  int 
the  best  room,  where  in  the  most  honourable  place  ap 
peared  a  portrait  of  the  Pretender.  The  possessor  i 
great  confusion  was  about  to  apologize  ;  when  the  kin 
stopped  him  by  saying,  with  a  good-natured  smilt 
'  Upon  my  word,  it  is  very  much  like  the  family.' 

354.  Mr.  P  *  *  *  *  had  killed  a  man  very  baselj 
and  judge  Dormer,  whose  sister  he  had  married,  wer 
to  king  George  I.  to  petition  for  him  ;  allowing,  how 
ever,  that  nothing  could  be  urged  in  alleviation  of  hi 
crime,  but  that  he  hoped  his  majesty  would  save  hir 
and  his  family  from  the  infamy  his  execution  woul 
bring  upon  them.  '  So,  Mr.  Justice,'  said  the  king 
'  what  you  propose  to  me  is,  that  Lehould  transfer  th 
infamy  from  you  and  your  family,  to  me  and  m; 
family.' 


FLOWERS    OF   WIT.  119 

355-  A  German  nobleman  one  day  congratulated  him 
i  his  being  sovereign  both  of  Great  Britain  and  Hano- 
ir.  *  Rather,'  said  he,  '  cengratulate  me  on  having 
ich  a  subject  in  the  one  as  Newton,  and  such  a  subject 
r  the  other  as  Leibnitz.' 

KING  GEORGE  II. 

356.  During  the  rebellion  in  1745,  the  king  came 
le  day  to  the  ceuncil  chamber  later  than  usual,  and 
iving  asked  the  subject  of  the  deliberations,  was  told 
ey  were  taking  measures  to  ensure  the  safety  of  his 
ajesty's  person.  '  Take  care  of  yourselves,  gentle- 
en,  said  the  intrepid  monarch,  '  for  as  to  me,  I  am 
solved  to  die  king  of  England.' 

DR.  WILLIAM  KING, 

257.  The  celebrated  principal  of  St.  Mary  Hall,  in 
xford,  1718.  In  vindication  of  himself  from  his  ene- 
iesof  the  court,  who  attributed  intrigue,  if  not  treason, 

him,  he  said  '  I  inherited  a  patrimony,  which  I  found 
fficient  to  supply  my  wants,  and  to  leave  me  at  liber- 

to  pursue  those  liberal  studies  which  afforded  me 

!  most  solid  pleasures  in  my  youth,  and  are  the  de- 
jht  and  enjoyment  of  my  old  age.  Besides,  I  always 
nceived  a  secret  horror  of  a  state  of  servility  and  de- 
sndence  ;  and  I  never  yet  saw  a  placeman  or  a  cour- 
;r,  whether  in  higher  or  lower  life,  whether  a  priest 

a  layman,  who  was  his  own  master.' 

358.  Thomas  Warton,  in  his  Triumph  of  Isis,  paid 
n  the  highest  compliment  on  the  Latin  oration  which 

spoke  in  the  Theatre  at   Oxford,  on  the  opening  ot 

i  Kadcliffe  library,  in  1746. 

The  description  does  honour  to  the  poet  ;  and  it  is 
re  introduced,  because  it  is  one  of  the  best  poetical 
etches  of  a  public  sneaker  extant  : — 


120  FLOWERS   OF   WIT. 

'See  on  you  stage  how  all  attentive  stands, 

To  catch  his  darting  eye  and  waving  hand  : 

Hark  !  he  begins  with  all  a  Tally's   art, 

To  pour  the  chelates  of  a  Cato.s  heart ; 

Skill'd  to  pronounce  what  noblest  thoughts  inspire, 

He  blends  the  speakers  with  the  patriot's  fire. 

Bold  to  conceive,  nor    timorous  to  conceal, 

What  Britons  dare  to  think,  he  dares  to  tell. 

'Tis  his  alike  the  ear  and  eye  to  charm, 

To  win  with  action,  and  with  sense  to  warm  ; 

Untaught  in  flowery  diction  to  dispense 

The  lulling  sound  of  sweet  impertinence, 

In  frowns  or  smiles,  he  gains  an  equal  prize, 

Nor  menaly  fears  to  fall,  nor  creeps  to  rise  ; 

Bids  happier  days  to  Albion  be  restor'd, 

Bids  antient  Justice  rear  her  radiant  sword; 

From  me,  as  from  my  country  wins  applause, 

And  makes  an  Oxford's  a  Britannia's  cause.' 

SIR  GODFREY  KNELLER. 

359.  'By  Heaven  T  love   you,  Mr.  Cock,'   said 
Godfrey  Kneller  to  Cock  the  auctioneer,  'and  1    wi 
do  you  good  ;  but  you  must  do  something  for  me  toi 
Mr.  Cock  :  one   hand  can  wash  the  face,  but  two  hanc 
wash  one  another.' 

THE  MODERN  LACONIC. 

That  neither  the  laconic  style  nor  the  spirit  th; 
dictated  it  expired  with  the  antient  Spartans,  may  \ 
proved  by  the  following  instances. 

3G0.  William  the  conqueror,  as  soon  as  he  set  la j 
foot  on  English  ground,  burned  his  ships,  and  cried] 
'Soldiers,  behold  your  country.' 

361.  Henry  IV.  of  France,  previous  to  a  battle,  sai 
to  his  troops  :  'I  am  your  king  ;  you  are  Frenchmer 
behold    the  enemy.'  m 

The    following  instance  of  the  epistolary  laconic 
beyond  all  competition  ; 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  121 

362.  Sir  George  Walton,  admiral  of  the  blue,  was 
jtached  August  11,  1718,  with  the  Canterbury  and 
'e  other  ships,  after  a  Spanish  fleet ;  and  on  the 
5th  he  forwarded  to  admiral  Byng  the  following  let- 

r : 

Sir, — We  have  taken  and  destroyed  all  the  Spanish 
ips  and  vessels  that  were  upon  the  coast.  The  num- 
r  as  per  margin. 

I  am,  &c. 
G.  Walton. 

interbury,  off  Syracuse, 
Aug.  16,  1718. 

Takm.  Burnt. 
Admiral  Mari  and  four  men  Four  men  of  war,of  54,  44, 
war,  60,  *4,  40,  and  24  guns;  40,  and  30  guns;  a  fire- 
hip  laden  with  arms,  and  a  ship  and  a  bomb-vessel.* 
uab-vessel, 

GEN  ERAL  LAMBERT 

363.  Said  very  pithily,  'That  the   best  of  men   are 
men  at  the   best.' 

Such  a  sentiment  as  this  proves  that  apothegms  are 
t  confined  to  the  wise  men  of  antiquity. 

LA  LANDE. 

364.  This  eminent  astronomer,  during  the  most 
ilous  times  of  the  French  Revolution,  confined  him- 

f  closely  to   the  persuits  of  his  favourite   science, 
hen  he  was  asked  to  what  happy  cause   he   was  in- 
bted  for  escaping  the  fury  of  Robespierre,  be  jocose- 
answered,    'I  may  thank  my  stars  for  my  preserva- 
I).' 

BISHOP  LATIMER. 
565.  Bishops  Latimer   and  Ridley  were    barba- 


122  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

rously  burnt  alive  at  Oxford  in  the  feign  of  bloo<' 
Mary.  While  the  flames  were  gathering  round  thr 
bodies,  'Be  of  good  courage,  Ridley,'  said  the  int) 
pid  Latimer, 'our  persecutors  will  be  disappointe 
for  our  sufferings  will  lead  men  to  inquire  into  the  m« 
its  of  that  cause  for  which  we  suffer  ;  and  this  fire  v\ 
light  such  a  candle  in  England,  as  I  trust  in  God's  gra 
will  never  be  extinguished.* 

LE  CLERC. 


366.  Some  person  observed  to  this  acute  and  p 
found  scholar,  'I  think  'De  mortuis  nil  nisi  bodum'  is 
good  saying.'  'De  mortuis  nil  nisi  verumj  said 
Clerc, 'is  a  better.'  'Why  so  ?'  'Because  truth  c 
do  no  harm  to  the  dead,  and  may  do  great  good  to  t 
living,' 

BISHOP  LEIGHTON. 

367.  Soon  after  the  Restoration,  when  episcopa 
was  introduced  into  Scotland,  Leighton  was  consecn 
ed  bishop  of  Dumblane.  At  his  entrance  upon  offil 
he  gave  an  instance  of  moderation.  Sharp,  and  otL> 
bishops,  intended  to  enter  Edinburgh  in  a  pompo; 
manner.  Leighton  remonstrated  against  it.  'How  CK 
these  men,'  said  Sharp,  with  his  usual  vehemenc 
'expect  moderation  from  us,  when  they  themselves  ir 
posed  their  Covenant  with  so  much  zeal  and  tyranr 
on  others  ?, — 'For  that  very  reason,'  answered  Leig 
ton  mildly,  'let  us  treat  them  with  gentleness,  and  sh< 
them  the  difference  between  their  principles  and  ourl 

LESSING. 

368.  When  this  celebrated  German  poet  was 
ceived  into  the  order  of  free  masons  at  Hamburgh,  o 
of  his  friends,  a  zealous  free  mason,  took  him  asi 
into  an  adjoining  room,  and  asked  him,  '  Is  it  not  tru 
that  you  find  nothing  among  us  against  the  governmeii 
religion,  or  morals  ?'    '  Yes,'  answered  Lessing,  wi 


flowers  or  WIT.  123 

eat  vivacity, '  but  would  to  heaven  I  had  ;  I  should 
;n,  at  least,  have  found  something.' 

LICHSTENBERG. 

369.  Lichstenberg  was  asked  what  he  thought  of 
lvater,  the  writer  on  physiognomy,  the  great  transla- 
-  of  countenances.  '  Lavater  seems,'  said  he  '  to  for- 
t,  that  the  influence  of  climate,  nourishment,  disease, 
d  other  accidental  circumstance?,  may  produce  in 
i  countenance  those  lines  and  appearances  which  he 
ra  down  as  the  marks  of  vicious  passion  :  and  thus  a 
ib  and  erroneous  judgment  may  be  pronounced  at  the 
pense  of  charity  and  truth.' 

SIR  GEORGE  LTSLE. 

370.  One  of  the  bravest  of  the  generals  of  Charles 
He  was  one  of  those  who  so  nobly  defended  Col- 
sterin  1648.     The  same  day  the  rebel  army  took 

place,  he  was  ordered  to  be  shot.  When  he  was 
3ut  to  be  executed,  and  thinking  that  the  soidiers 
o  were  to  despatch  him  stood  at  too  great  a  distance, 
desired  them  to  approach  nearer.  One  of  them  said, 
warrant  we  shall  hit  you.'  He  replied  with  a  smile, 
riends,  I  have  been  nearer  to  you,  when  you  have 
>sed  me.' 

MADAM  DE  LONGUEVILLE, 

571.  Her  friends  advised  madam  de  Longueville, 
)  was  a  very  virtuous  and  diffident  lady,  to  go  to 
rt,  in  order  to  set  the  courtiers  a  good  example.  '  I 
not,'  said  she,  '  set  a  better  example,  than  by  not 
ng  to  court  at  all.' 

LOUIS  XI. 

172.  Louis  XI.  used  to  compare  the  nobilty  of  his 
gdom  to  so  many  Actaeons.  '  They  are,'  said  he, 
en  up  by  their  dogs  and  horses.' 


124  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

LOUIS  XII. 

373.  The  king  being  told  that  a  gentleman  of  hi 
household  had  treated  some  farmers  very  ill,  order*' 
his  daily  allowance  of  bread  to  be  lessened.  When  tl 
gentleman  complained,  the  king  asked  him,  if  his  she 
allowance  was  enough  to  support  him.  '  No,  sire,'  sa 
he  ;  '  for  bread,  jrou  know,  is  the  staff  of  life.'  '  If 
be  so,'  said  the  king,  '  why  are  you  so  absurd  as 
treat  those  person^  ill,  who  put  that  staff  into  yo 
hands  ?' 

A  nation  fond  of  glory  will  always  honour  the  nr 
of  letters,   who  record  and  celebrate  its  triumphs. 

374.  *  The  ancient  Greeks,'  said  Louis  XII., '  d 
little  ;  but  they  ennobled  the  little  they  did  by  the  su 
limity  of  their  eloquence.  The  French  have  perfon 
ed  many  great  things  ;  but  they  have  not  the  art 
displaying  them  to  advantage  by  writing.  The  R 
mans  are  the  only  people,  who  have  had  the  two-fo 
glory  of  achieving  great  things,  and  celebrating  the' 
in  a  worthy  style.' 

LOUIS  XIV., 

However  blameable  for  the  fatal  consequences 
his  unbounded  ambition,  united  a  considerable  share 
genuine  good  nature,  with  the  most  distinguished  urbi; 
ity  of  manners  :  perhaps  he  was  as  complete  a  gen}) 
man  as  ever  lived.  The  following  anecdote  is  m 
among  numerous  instances  of  his  claims  to  this  chad 
ter. 

375.  He  was  one  day  entertaining  a  select  party 
his  courtiers  with  the  relation  of  a  story,  which  he  i 
nnunced  as  extremely  laughable  ;  but  on  the  entran 
of  the  prince  Armagnac,  be  suppressed  a  fine  reparl, 
which  constituted  the  merit  of  the  story.  The  king  I 
served  the  disappointment  of  the  company  at  this  iutj 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  125 

uption,  but  said  nothing  till  the  prince  was  gone. 
Now,  gentlemen,'  said  he,  '  I'll  conclude  my  story  :' 
vhich  he  did  ;  and  the  sequel  produced  sn  extraordi- 
lary  degree  of  merriment.  '  You  see,'  added  the  king, 
there  was  an  oblique  stroke,  which  would  have  affect- 
d  the  prince,  and  1  suppressed  it  to  prevent  his  being 
mbarrassed  ;  for  I  would  rather  lose  the  praise  of  the 
est  bon  mot  that  ever  was  uttered,  than  give  a  moment's 
'ain  to  any  person  whatever  !' 

376.  The  prince  of  Conde'  coming  to  congratulate 
ouis  XIV.  after  a  battle,  in  which  he  had  command- 
d  and  gained  great  honour  ;  the  king  stood  on  the  top 
f  the  stairs  to  receive  him.     The  prince,  being  lame 

ith  the  gout,  ascended  very  slowly  ;  and  stopping 
lidway,  begged  his  majesty's  pardon  if  he  made  him 
'ait.     *  Cousin,'  said  the  king,  '  do  not  hurry  yourself ; 

person  loaded  with  laurels  as  you  are,  cannot  be  ex- 
ected  to  move  very  fast.' 

377.  Louis  XIV.  complained  that  he  was  often  de- 
eived  in  his  choice  of  favourites  ;  he  said,  He  had 
flight  for  friends,  and  had  found  only  intriguers.  His 
nowledge  of  mankind,  which  was  the  result  of  long 
nd  painful  experience,  induced  him  to  remark,  That, 
s  often  as  he  gave  away  a  place,  he  made  a  hundred 

ersons  discontented,  and  one  ungrateful." 

378.  When  the  duke  of  Anjou,  grandson  to  Louis 
JV.,  was  going  to  take  possession  of  the  crown  of 
pain  ;  Loui.s  alluding  to  the  removal  of  the  obstacle 
jat  had  prevented  the  harmony  between  France  and 
pain,  said,  '  The  Pyrenees  will  exist  no  longer.' 

379.  Louis  XIV.  very  rarely  reproached  any  one. 
he  marquis  of  Uxelles,   in    1689,   surrendered,   to 

rince  Charles-of  Lorrain,  the  city  of  Mentz,  which  he 
ad  defended  for  a  considerable  time  with  great  gallan- 
y:  He  came  to  court  to  give  an  account  of  his  con- 
uct,  and  was  apprehensive  of  the  censures  of  the  king. 
fe  threw  himself  at  the  monarch's  feet.  '  Rise,  mar- 
11 


1<2&  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

quis,*  said  Louis  ;  '  you  have  defended  the  place  like  a 
man  of  courage,  2nd  you  have  capitulated  like  a  man 
of  abilities.' 

380.  The  death  of  the  queen  affected  him  in  the 
severest  degree.  *  Good  God  !'  said  he,  when  his  at- 
tendants forced  him  away  from  h,er  lifeless  body,  '  is  it 
possible  that  the  queen  is  dead  ?  and  that  I  must  for 
ever  lose  her,  who  never  gave  me  pain  but  when  she 
died  V  ft  is  not  easy  to  pronounce  a  funeral  oration  in 
fewer  words. 

381.  He  showed  a  feeling  beart.  '  When  the  abb£ 
de  Pompone  had  lost  his  father  Simon  Arnauld,  secre- 
tary of  state,  Louis  wished  to  give  him  consolation,  and 
share  his  grief.  '  You  lament,'  said  he,  '  a  father, 
whom  you  shall  find  in  me  ;  and  I  have  lost  a  friend, 
whom  I  shall  never  find  again.' 

382.  He  candidly  confessed  his  ignorance  upon 
literary  subjects.  He  one  day  asked  Racine  what 
French  writer  had  done  most  honour  to  bis  reign.  Ra-r 
cine  replied,  '  Molie're,  sire.'  '  I  did  not  think  so,'? 
said  Louis  ;  '  but  you  are  a  much  better  judge  of  hi*  i 
merit  than  lam.'  » 

383.  He  was  told  that  lord  Stair,  the  English  ambas- 
sador, was  one  of  the  best-bred  men  in  Europe.  '  I, 
will  put  his  politeness  to  the  te9t,'  said  the  king  :  an<L 
asking  lord  Stair  to  take  an  airing  with  him,  as  soon  as 
the  door  was  opened  he  desired  him  to  walk  on,  and, 
enter  the  royal  carriage.'  Lord  Stair  bowed,  and  obey- 
ed. The  grand  monarque  said,  4  The  world  is  right 
in  the  character  it  has  given  of  this  nobleman  ;  a  persoilj 
less  polite  than  he  is  would  have  teased  me  with  cer- 
emony.' 

CONJUGAL  LOVE. 

384.  Eleanor  the  queen  of  Edward  I.  had  such  an' 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  127 

flection  for  her  husband,  that  when  he  was  going  to 
ake  his  long  and  perilous  voyage  to  the  Holy  Land, 
he  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  stay  at  home,  but 
esolved  to  accompany  him,  saying,  '  Nothing  must 
>art  those  whom  God  has  joined  in  holy  matrimony  : 
vhy  should  I  tarry  at  home  ?  the  way  to  heaven  is  as 
jiear,  if  not  nearer,  in  the  Holy  Land,  than  it  is  in 
^ngiand,  or  Spain.' 

MARTIN  LUTHER. 

Such  was  this  great  reformer's  sternness  of  charac- 
fer,  that  he  seemed  unlikely  to  be  attracted  by  the 
harms  of  refined  accomplishments.  Yet  he  was  re- 
markably fond  of  music,  and  he  composed  several  piec- 
s  that  are  truly  sublime. 

385.  '  Whoever  despises  music,'  said  he,  '  I  am  dis- 
leased  with  him.  Next  to  theology,  I  give  a  place  to 
lusic  :  for  thereby  all  anger  is  forgotten,  the  devil  is 
riven  away,  and  melancholy,  and  many  tribulations, 
nd  evil  thoughts,  are  expelled.  It  is  the  best  solace 
)r  a  desponding  mind.' 

386.  His  imagination  was  glowing  and  expanded  : 
iWhen  I  behold,'  said  he*,  '  by  the  light  of  the  moon, 
he  beautiful  azure  vault  of  heaven,  besprinkled  with 
onstellations  of  shining  orbs,  the  prospect  fills  my 
n'nd,  and  1  feel  the  highest  gratification  at  such  a  glo- 
ous  display  of  omnipotence.  Melancthon  wishes  to 
now,  where  are  the  pillars  that  support  this  magnifi- 
ed arch.' 

387.  He  said  of  himself,  '  My  rind  is  indeed  very 
|ard  ;  but  my  core  is  soft  and  delicate,  for  I  wish  ill  to 
lo  one.' 

388.  '  A  man,'  said  he,  '  lives  forty  years  before  he 
nows  himself  to  be  a  fool  ;  and  at  the  time  he  begins 

see  his  folly,  his  life  is  nearly  finished  ;  so  that  ma* 
y  men  die  before  they  begin  to  live.' 


1  28  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

389.  '  Patience  is  necessary  in  most  things  :  I  mus 
have  patience  with  the  Pope  ;  I  must  have  patiena 
with  heretics  and  seducers  ;  I  must  have  patience  wit! 
babbling  courtiers,  and  with  my  servants  ;  I  must  havi 
patience  with  my  wife  Kate.  In  short,  the  occasion 
tor  this  virtue  are  so  great,  that  my  whole  life  is  a  lif 
of  patience.' 

THE  DUKE  OF  LUXEMBOURG!!. 

390.  This  general  resembled  the  renowned  Cond< 
whose  pupil  he  was.  He  beat  William  prince  of  Oi 
ange  in  several  battles,  which  caused  William  to  ex 
press  himself  with  great  indignation.  '  Is  it  impossibl 
for  me,'  said  he,  '  to  beat  that  little  hunch-back  Lux 
embourgh  ?'  *  How  should  he  know  whether  I  am  soc 
not  ?'  said  the  duke  ,  '  for,  often  as  I  have  seen  hi 
back,  he  never  saw  mine.' 


LORD  LYTTELTON. 

391.  A  lady,  well  known  in  the  literary  world,  asl 
ed  the  elder  lord  Lyttelton,  why  he  did  not  insert,  i 
his  Life  of  Henry  II.,  the  tradition  which  makes  tha 

Jirince  the  offspring  of  an  amour  between  the  empres 
Vlatilda  and  her  competitor  Stephen.  The  nobl 
biographer  answered,  *  My  work  shall  never  becom 
the  vehicle  of  antiquated  scandal  against  a  lady  of  ran 
and  character.' 

MACKLIN. 

392.  Macklin  the  comedian  was  much  distinguish* 
in  acting  the  parts  of  Shylock  and  sir  Archie  Macsycc 
phant.  His  favourite  book  was  Wanleyi's  Wonders 
and  he  used  to  commit  a  page  or  two  ot  that  curioL 
compilation  to  memory,  that  he  might  have  a  strikin 
anecdote  ready  to  relate  when  he  was  going  into  coir 
pany.     The  king  once  asked  him  how  old  he  was. 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  -  129 


•vas  born,'  said  he,  '  in  the  last  century,  and  hope  to 
lave  the  honour  of  playing  before  your  majesty  in  the 
iext.y  He  died  in  the  year  1797,  at  the  very  advanced 
ige  of  107. 

MAGNANIMITY. 


393.  Melik  the  vizir  of  the  Caliph  Mostadi,  gained 
signal  victory  over  the  Greeks,  and  took  their  empe- 
ror prisoner.  Having  ordered  the  captive  prince  to  ap- 
pear in  his  tent,  he  asked  him  what  treatment  he  ex- 
pected from  his  conqueror.  *  If  you  make  war  like  a 
ing,'  said  the  emperor,  '  send  me  back  ;  if  you  make 
t  like  a  merchant,  accept  my  ransom  ;  if  like  a  butcher, 
:>ut  me  to  death.'  The  mussulman  general  dismissed 
lim  with  honour. 

MALHERBE. 

He  was  to  France,  what  Pope  was  to  England,  the 
•efiner  of  the  poetical  style  :  and  such  was  the  elegance 
f  his  versification,  that  he  eclipsed  his  predecessors, 
Hid  placed  most  of  them  in  the  shade  of  obscurity. 

394.  When  any  one  began  to  talk  politics  to  him,  he 
leclined  entering  upon  the  subject,  saying,  '  Is  it  not 
ib'surd,  when  you  are  only  a  common  passenger  on 
Doard  a  ship,  to  talk  of  the  manner  in  which  the  vessel 
s  steered  V 

JOHN  DUKE  OF  MARLBOROUGH. 

This  greatest  of  modern  generals  learned  the  rudi- 
nents  of  the  art  of  war,  while  he  served  with  the  Eng- 
ish  auxiliaries,  in  the  pay  of  France,  against  the  Dutch 
inder  marshal  Turenne.  He  afterwards  turned  the 
rts  of  his  teachers  against  themselves,  for  he  proceed- 
d  in  an  uninterrupted  career  of  success,  and  completely 
wimbled  the  pride  of  Louis  XIV.  Such  was  his  coii- 
11* 


130  FLOWERS    OF  WIT, 


: 


summate  skill,  and  such  his  success,  that  he  neve 
fought  a  battle,  but  he  won  it ;  and  never  laid  siege  t 
a  town,  but  he  took  it. 

So  little  indebted  was  he  to  the  aid  of  learning  for  hi 
pre-eminence,  that  he  could  scarcely  write  ;  and  yet  s 
various  were  his  talents,  that  his  influence  was  felt  i 
the  council,  as  well  as  in  the  field. 

395.  It  was  a  saying  of  his  ;  '  Give  me  ten  thousan 
half-starved  Scotchmen,  ten  thousand  half-drunke 
Irishmen,  and  ten  thousand  well-fed  Englishmen  ;  and 
in  spite  of  all  the  grand  monarque  can  do,  1  will  marc 
from  Boulogne  to  Bayonne.' 

396.  In  the  war  of  the  allies  with  France,  thedeputie 
of  the  states  of  Holland  presented  obstacles  to  the  plan 
of  the  duke  of  Marlborough  and  prince  Eugene.  Tb 
duke  was  once  asked  how  it  happened,  that  Alexande 
the  Great,  and  many  other  heroes  of  antiquity,  had  in 
very  short  time  made  such  considerable  progress  i 
their  conquests,  and  that  now  all  that  the  greatest  gen 
orals  could  do,  was  to  take  two  or  three  towns  in  th 
course  of  a  whole  campaign.  i  The  reason,'  he  replied 
'  is  sufficiently  obvious  :  Alexander,  and  the  other  grea 
heroes  of  antiquity,  had  never  any  deputies  from  trf 
states-general  in  their  camps.' 

397.  He  conducted  his  army  from  the  Low-Cour 
tries  to  join  the  Imperialists  upon  the  banks  of  the  Dar 
ube.  The  great  Eugene,  astonished  at  the  exceller 
condition  of  his  troops  after  a  long  and  difficult  marc 
exclaimed, '  My  lord,  I  never  saw  stronger  horses,  c 
soldiers  better  clothed  and  equipped.  AH  this,  howev 
er,  can  be  done  for  money  ;  but  money  cannot  purchas 
the  courage  which  shines  in  your  men's  countenances. 
4  If  what  you  remark  be  true,'  replied  Marlborougt 
it  is  easily  accounted  for  :  my  soldiers  know  befor 
whom  they  stand  ;  their  intrepid  looks  are  inspire 
by  your  presence.' 

398.  When  the  duke  was  told  that  an  officer,  whor 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  131 

ie  had  broke  for  ill-behaviour,  would  take  some  op- 
portunity of  privately  doing  him  an  injury,  he  replied  : 

I  am  in  no  apprehension  on  that  head,  because  I  know 

im  to  be  a  man  of  courage.' 

399.  Some  person  abused  the  duke,  in  the  presence 
f  lord  Bolingbroke,  for  his  avarice.  l  It  is  in  vain,' 
aid  his  lordship, '  you  endeavour  to  lower  him  in  my 
steem  ;  he  was  so  great  a  character  that  1  forget  all 
is  faults.' 

400.  In  the  great  battle  of  Blenheim,  in  which  the 
!ing!ish  and  their  allies  gained  one  of  the  most  decisive 
nd  glorious  of  all  their  victories,  marshal  Tallard,  the 
"rench  commander-in-chief,  was  taken  prisoner.  In  a 
onversation  he  soon  after  had  with  the  duke  of  Marl- 
orough,  he  assured  him,  that  the  French  army  was 
omposed  of  the  bravest  troops  in  the  world.  '  No 
oubt  they  are,  said  the  duke, '  with  the  exception  of 

at  army  which  had  the  honour  to  beat  them.' 

401.  Great  men  are  never  angry  at  little  things.  The 
uke  riding  out  with  commissary  Marriot,  it  began  to 
dn,  and  the  duke  called  for  his  cloak.  Marriot  had 
is  put  on  by  his  servant  immediately.  The  duke's 
ervant  not  bringing  the  cloak,  he  called  foi  it  again, 
ut  he  was  still  puzzling  about  the  straps  and  buckles  ; 
t  last  it  raining  very  hard,  the  duke  called  again,  and 
sked  him  what  he  was  about.  '  You  must  stay,' 
rumbled  the  fellow,  '  if  it  rains  cats  and  dogs,  till  1 
an  get  at  it.'  The  duke  turned  to  Marriot,  and  only 
uietly  said,4  I  should  be  sorry  to  be  of  that  fellow's 
hmper.' 


402.  King  William  is  said  to  have  declared  of  Marl- 
orough,  '  That  he  had  of  all  men  the  coolest  head 
ith  the  warmest  heart.' 


MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTLAND. 

403.  OxVEof  the  Cecil  family,  minister  to  Scotland 


132  FLOWERS    OF    WIT, 


7, 


from  England,  was  speaking  to  her  of  the  wisdom  o 
his  sovereign,  que'fen  Elizabeth.  Mary  stopped  hint 
short  by  saying,  k  Pray,  sir,  don't  talk  to  me  of  th< 
wisdom  of  a  woman  ;  I  think  I  know  my  own  sex  prettj 
well,  and  can  assure  you,  that  the  wisest  of  us  all  is  on 
ly  a  little  less  a  fool  than  the  others.' 

404.  When  in  the  full  bloom  of  her  beauty,  as  sin 
was  walking  in  a  procession  in  Paris,  a  woman  force* 
her  way  through  the  crowd  to  touch  her.  Upon  beinj 
asked  what  she  meant  by  her  bold  intrusion,  she  said 
'  It  was  only  to  satisfy  herself,  whether  so  angelic 
creature  were  flesh  and  blood  or  not.' 

This  singular  beauty  was  a  principal  cause  of  he 
misfortunes  and  her  destruction.  It  excited  the  jeal 
ousy  of  Elizabeth,  which  could  only  be  appeased  b; 
her  death. 

Mary,  guilty  as  she  was  of  crimes,  was  so  lovely  ii 
her  person,  and  so  attractive  in  her  manners,  that  al 
parties  wished  her  innocent,  and  all  concurred  in  pity 
ing  her  sufferings.  Her  execution  is  an  indelible  spo 
upon  the  sun  of  Elizabeth's  glory. 

SIR  JOHN  MASON. 

Sir  John  Mason  was  bom  in  the  reign  of  Kenr 
VII.  and  was  privy-councillor  to  Henry  VIII.,  Edwan 
VI., queen  Mary,  and  queen  Elizabeth.  He  was  a  ma 
of  talents,  and  displayed  great  probity  in  very  turbc; 
lent  times. 

405.  On  his  death-bed  he  called  his  family  togethei 
and  thus  addressed  them  : — 

'  Lo,  I  have  lived  to  see  five  princes,  and  have  bee 
privy-councillor  to  four  of  them.  1  have  seen  the  mos 
remarkable  things  in  foreign  parts  ;  and  have  been  pre 
sent  in  most  state  transactions  for  thirty  years  at  horm 
After  so  much  experience,  J  have  learned  that  serioue 
ness  is  the  greatest  wisdom  ;  temperance  the  be* 
physician  ;  aud  a  good  conscience  the  best  estate  :  an 
were  I  to  live  again,   I  |*$uld  change   fbe  court  for  j 


BLOWERS    OP    WIT.  133 

loister  ;  my  privy-councillor's  bustle  for  the  retire- 
lent  of  a  hermit ;  and  my  whole  life  in  the  palace  for 
i  hour's  enjoyment  of  God  in  my  closet.  All  things 
3vv  forsake  me,  except  my  God,  my  duty,  aud  my 
tayers.' 

MASS1LLON. 

406.  '  The  person  of  Massillon,'  said  a  French  author 
Tthe  last  century,  *  is  still  present  to  maf.y.  It  seems, 
ay  his  admirers,)  that  he  is  now  standing  in  the  pul- 
it  with  that  air  of  simplicity,  that  unassuming  demean- 
jr,  those  eyes  humbly  dejected,  or  nobly  elevated, 
lat  impassioned  tone  of  voice,  that  speaking  counten- 
ice  of  a  man  penetrated  with  his  subject,  and  con- 
eying  to  the  mind  the  most  brilliant  light,  and  to  the 
2art  the  most  tender  emotions.'  When  Baron,  the 
reat  French  tragedian,  was  coming  from  a  church 
here  he  had  heard  a  sermon  preached  by  Massillon, 
uth  forced  from  his  lips  a  confession  humiliating  to  his 
|rofession  :  '  My  friend,'  said  he,  to  one  of  his  compan  < 

ns,  '  this  is  an  orator,  and  we  are  only  actors.' 

407.  Every  one  was  astonished  at  the  pictures  of  life 
(id  manners  which  this  sublime  orator  of  the  pulpit  has 
!rawn,  as  they  are  very  faithful,  vivid,  and  affecting, 
jme  person  asked  him   from  whence  a   recluse,  who 

I  red  so  much  a  stranger  to  the  world,  could  take  them. 
iFrom  the  human  heart,'  said  Massillon  ;  '  and,  ifyou 
[famine  it  as  carefully  as  I  have,  you  will  there  find 
te  seat  of  all  the  passions.' 

THE  EMPEROR  MAXMILIAN. 

408.  An  impudent  beggar,  on  the  authority  of  the 
lords  in  the  12th  chapter  of  Malachi  :  '  Have  we  not 
l!  one  God  our  common  father  ?'  asked  alms  from  Max- 
|iilian,  addressing  him  by  the  title  of  brother.     Not 

tisfied  with  the  sum  given  him  by  the  emperor,  he 
ntinued  to  importune  him  for  more.  '  Retire,'  said 
laximilian  to  him,  in  a  gentle  manner  ;  *  for  if  all  your 


134  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

brothers  give  you  as  much  as  I  have  now,  you  will  soot 
be  richer  than  1  am.' 

SERJEANT  MAYNARD. 

409.  Serjeant  Maynard,  one  of  the  ablest  lawyer* 
of  his  time,  waited  upon  king  William  III.  with  th< 
rest  of  that  learned  body,  to  address  him  on  his  safe  ar 
rival  in  England.  William,  not  very  politely,  told  ser 
jeant  Maynard,  that  he  had  outlived  all  the  great  law 
vers  of  his  time.  *  Sir,'  replied  the  serjeant,  '  I  shouh 
have  outlived  the  law  itself,  if  your  majesty  had  no 
come  hither.' 

LORENZO  DE  MEDICIS. 

This  great  and  accomplished  man,  whose  Life  ha. 
been  written  with  considerable  ability  by  Mr.  Koscoe 
gave  proofs  in  his  early  years  of  that  quickness  of  mine 
wrhich  distinguished  his  mature  age. 

410-  His  father  Cosmo  one  day  presented  him,  whet 
he  was  a  child,  to  an  ambassador,  to  whom  he  talked o 
him  with  the  partiality  of  a  parent  ;  requested  the  am 
bassador  to  whom  he  talked  of  him  with  the  partiality 
of  a  parent  ;  requested  the  ambassador  to  put  some 
questions  to  his  son,  and  to  judge  by  his  answers,  if  hi 
was  not  a  boy  of  extraordinary  talents.  The  ambassa- 
dor was  soon  convinced,  by  conversing  with  him,  of  the; 
truth  of  what  Cosmo  had  told  him  ;  but  added,  '  This 
child,  as  he  grows  up,  will  most  probably  become  stu- 
pid ;  for  it  has  in  general  been  observed,  that  those 
who  when  young  are  very  clever,  degenerate  as  they 
grow  older.'  Young  Lorenzo,  hearing  this  remark, 
walked  gently  to  the  ambassador,  and  looking  him 
archly  in  the  face,  said  to  him,  '  I  am  certain,  that  when 
you  were  young,  you  were  a  boy  of  a  very  great 
genius.' 

411.  Lorenzo  being  asked  who  were  the  greatest 
fools  in  the  world,  answered,  *  Surely  those  who 
put  themselves  in  a  passion  with  fools.' 


FLOWERS    OP    WIT.  135 

JOHN  MILTON. 

412.  His  Paradise  Lost  is  an  almost  miraculous  pro- 
uction,  if  considered  to  have  been  composed  under  the 
ircumstances  of  complicated  wretchedness  produced 
y  poverty,  disgrace,  old  age  and  blindness.  Addison 
tleared  the  way  for  its  celebrity,  by  his  excellent  criti- 
al  papers  in  the  Spectator.  It  slowly  rose  to  fame,  but 
ow  has  attained  to  its  due  ascendency  in  the  scale  of 
ur  literature.  Succeeding  generations  have  fulfilled 
ie   prediction,   which  the  consciousness   of  his  own 

ighty  talents  prompted  Milton  to  hazard  : 

*  At  ultimi  nepoles 

Serique.  postevi 

Judicia  nobis  atquioraforsilan 

A  dkibebunt  inlegro  smu ; 

Tarn  livore  sepulto 

Si  quid  meremur,  sera  poster  Has  sciet.' 

Lucretius  and  Milton  were  exceptions  to  all  other  poets 
one  respect ;  they  were  very  sparing  of  their  flattery. 

413.  Milton  is  said  to  have  valued  himself  more  up- 
i  the  production  of  his  Paradise  Regained  than  his 
aradise  Lost.  This  is  like  the  blindness  of  some  pa- 
nts to  the  merits  of  their  children,  and  their  prepos- 
ssion  in  favour  of  the  least  deserving.  The  public 
union  is  universally  against  that  of  the  bard  of  Eden  ; 
d  it  was  well  remarked  by  a  critic,  that  we  find  Mil- 
i  in  Paradise  Lost,  but  lose  him  in  Paradise  Re- 
ined. 

414.  It  is  said  that  an  offer  was  made  to  Milton,  of 
Iding  the  place  of  secretary  under  the  king,  which  he 
d  discharged  with  so  much  ability  under  Cromwell ; 
the  persisted  in  refusing  it,  though  his  wife  pressed 

;  compliance.  '  Thou  art  in  the  right,'  said  he  ; 
ou,  as  other  women,  would  ride  in  your  coach  ;  fqr, 
:,  my  aim  is  to  live  and  die  an  honest  man.1 


136  flowers   or   WIT. 

415.  His  third  wife  survived  this  inimitable  poet 
a  state  of  widowhood  nearly  fifty-five  years,  dying 
Namptwich  in  her  native  Cheshire,  about  the  ye 
1729.  She  related  that  her  husband,  then  completei 
blind,  composed  principally  in  the  winter  ;  and,  onh 
waking  in  the  morning,  would  make  her  write  dov 
sometimes  twenty  or  thirty  verses.  On  being  ask< 
whether  he  did  not  frequently  read  Homer  and  Virg 
she  replied,  *  That  he  stole  from  nobody,  but  that  tl 
Muse  inspired  him.'  To  a  lady  who  inquired  who  tl 
Muse  was,  she  answered,  '  It  was  God's  grace  and  tl 
Holy  Spirit  that  visited  him  nightly.' 

416.  Milton  was  passionately  fond  of  music.  Sob 
time  after  his  unlortunate  blindness,  hearing  a  lady  si. 
finely  :  '  Now  will  1  swear,'  said  he,  '  this  lady  ishan 
some.'    His  ears  were  then  eyes  to  him. 

MODESTY. 

417.  It  was  a  question,  Who  had  spoken  in  the  ha 
piest  manner  of  modesty.  A  French  author  calls  it  tl 
shadow  of  a  noble  miud.  St.  Bernard  styles  it  the  je* 
el  of  manners,  the  sister  of  chastity,  the  guardian 
reputation,  the  portion  of  all  purity.  Diogenes  was 
cynic  philosopher,  and  therefore  may  be  supposed 
express  himself  coarsely  ;  but  what  description  can  ! 
more  appropriate  or  delicate,  than  when  he  called 
blush  the  colour  of  virtue  ? 

LADY  MARY  WORTLE Y  MONTAGU] 

418.  This  lady,  well  known  for  her  very  pleasi, 
Letters  on  Turkish  manners  and  customs,  when  vc^ 
young,  wrote  the  following  verses  to  Trutk  : 

1  Where,  lovely  goddess,  dost  thou  dwell  ? 
In  what  remote  and  silent  shade  i 
Within  what  cave,  or  lonely  cell, 
With  what  old  hermit,  or  unpractis'd  maid 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  137 

In  vain  I've  9oughtthee  all  around, 

But  thy  unfashionable  sound 

In  crowds  was  never  heard, 

Nor  ever  has  thy  form  in  towns  or  courts  appear'd.7 

419.  As  lady  Mary  was  walking  through  the  gardens 
Stow  with  a  party,  she  was  much  teased  by  an  im- 
minent young  coxcomb,  who  was  continually  making 
me  foolfsh  observations  to  her.  On  coming  to  one  of 
e  temples,  over  which  there  was  an  inscription,  she 
ok  advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  expose  his  igno- 
nce  and  put  him  to  silence.  *  Pray,  sir,'  said  she, 
)e  kind  enough  to  explain  that  inscription  to  us.' 
ladam,'  said  the  young  gentleman,  with  an  affected 
r, '  1  really  do  not  know  what  it  means,  for  I  see  it 
dog  Latin.'  '  How  very  extraordinary  it  is,'  said  la- 
Mary,  '  that  puppies  do  dot  understand  their  own 

iguage !' 

SIR  THOMAS  MORE. 

420.  Mr.  Manners,  who  had  but  lately  been  created 
rl  of  Rutland,  said  to  sir  Thomas  More,  '  You  are  so 
ich  elated  with  your  preferments,  that  you  verify  the 
1  proverb, 

Honores  Mutant  Mores.' 

to,  my  lord,'  said  sir  Thomas, '  the  pun  will  do  much 
tter  in  English  : 

Honours  change  Manners.'' 

121.  When  he  heard  any  one  of  his  friends  at  table 
lsuring  the  conduct  of  others,  he  would  interrupt  him 
is  :  '  Let  any  man  think  as  he  pleases  ;  I  like  this 
>m  very  well,  for  it  is  well  built,   and  very  conven- 

122.  Of  an  ungrateful  person  he  said :  '  That  man 
12 


138  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 


1 


" 


writes  good  turns  done  to  him  in  the  dust,  but  even 
least  injuries  in  marble.' 

423.  To  ease  his  thoughts  when  he  was  in  prison,  1 
said,  '  he  imagined  that  all  the  world  was  but  a  priso 
out  of  which  some  one  or  other  was  every  day  called 
execution.' 

424.  When  he  was  lord  chancellor,  he  sentenced 
gentleman  to  pay  a  considerable  sum  of  money  to  a  po 
widow,  whom  he  had  oppressed.  The  gentleman  r 
monstrated,  and  said,  '  I  hope  your  lordship  will  gi  i 
me  time,  and  a  long  day,  to  pay  so  large  a  sum.'  '  Y< 
shall  have  your  request,'  said  the  chancellor  ;  '  Mondi 
next  is  St.  Barnabas,  the  longest  day  in  all  the  yea 
pay  the  widow  then,  or  you  shall  sleep  in  the  Fleet  tl 
shortest  night  in  the  year.' 

HORATIO  NELSON. 

425.  When  a  little  boy,  he  was  on  a  visit  to  anaui 
and  went  in  search  of  birds'  nests.  He  wandered, 
far,  that  he  did  not  return  till  some  time  after  it  w 
dark.  The  old  lady,  who  had  been  much  alarmed  V 
his  absence,  reprimanded  him  severely,  and  asked  hi1 
how  fear  came  not  to  drive  him  home  '  1  don't  knofj 
said  the  boy  with  great  simplicity,  k^vho  Fear  is.' 

426.  His  attachment  to  his  friends  was  as  ardent 
his  courage.  When  be  was  presented  to  the  king 
the  levee,  his  majesty  complimented  him  on  his  gre 
actions  :  after  this  eulogium,  he  condoled  with  him  J 
the  loss  of  his  arm.  Nelson  turned  round  to  capts 
Berry,  who  had  been  the  companion  of  many  of  his  e' 
ploits,  and  introduced  him  to  the  king  with  this  remari 
4  My  loss,  I  assure  your  majesty,  is  not  so  great  as  y 
may  imagine,  for  here  is  my  right  hand.' 

427.  Of  his  confidence  of  what  seamen  can  achie> 
he  gave  the  following  remarkable  proof,  among  ma 
others. — When  he  was  before  Bastia  in  Corsica, 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  139 

Lid,  c  What  the  general  (Dundas)  could  have  seen 
make  a  retreat  necessary,  I  cannot  comprehend.  A 
ousand  men  would  certa'inly  take  Bnstia  :  with  five 
mdred  and  my  ship  Agamemnon  I  would  attempt  it. 
y  seamen  are  now,  what  British  seamen  ought  to  be, 
[most  invincible.  They  really  mind  shot  no  more 
|an  peas.' 

[The  event  justified  his  boldness  ;  for  1000  regulars, 
t300  national  guards,  and  4000  Corsican  troops,  laid 
bwn  their  arms  to  1200  soldiers,  marines,  and  seamen  ! 
fter  the  surrender  of  Bastia,  '  I  always  was  of  opinion,' 
id  Neteon,  '  have  ever  acted  up  to  it.  and  never  had 
y  reason  to  repent  it,  that  one  Englishman  was  equal 
three  Frenchmen !' 

428.  When  he  was  going  to  the  coast  of  Egypt  in 
aTch  of  the  French  fleet,  in  his  letter  to  lord  St.  Vin- 
nt  he  said  :  '  Should  the  French  fleet  be  bound  to 
e  Antipodes,  you  may  rely  upon  me,  I  will  not  lose 
moment  in  bringing  them  to  action.' 

429.  On  the  1st  of  August  1793,  captain  Hood  of  the 
alous  made  the  signal  for  the  French  fleet.  For 
my  preceding  days  Nelson  had  hardly  taken  either 
3t  or  food  :    he  now  ordered  dinner  to  be  served, 

liile  preparations  were  made  for  battle  ;  and  when  his 

[icers  rose  from  table,  and  went  to  their  separate  sta- 

ns,  he  said  to  them  :  '  Before  this  time  to-morrow,  I 

all  have  gained  a  peerage,  or  Westminster  Abbey.' 

430.  Of  his  confidence  as  to  the  success  of  his  mode 
attack  there  is  no  doubt.  Captain  Berry,  when  he 
nprehended  the  scope  of  the  design,  exclaimed  with 
nsport,  '  If  we  succeed,  what  will  the  world  say  ?' 
'here  is  no  if  in  the  case,'  replied  the  admiral  ; 
lat  we  shall  succeed  is  certain  ;  who  may  live  to  tell 

story,  is' a  very  different  question.' 

131.  The  victory  of  the  Nile  was  one  of  the  most 
nplete  and  glorious  ever  achieved.  '  Victory,'  said 
Ison,  '  is  not  a  name  strong  enough  for  such  a'scene  j 


140  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

I  call  it  a  conquest.'  Of  thirteen  sail  of  the  line — nir 
were  taken,  and  two  burnt ;  of  the  four  frigates,  or 
was  burnt,  and  another  sunk. 

432.  Impromptu  after  the  signal  victory  of  the  NU 
admiral  Nelson  having  previously  lost  an  eye  and  t 
arm: 

*  Frenchmen,  no  more  with  Britons  vie,.... 
Nelson  destroys  your  naval  band, 
Sees  your  designs  with  half  an  eye, 
And  fights  and  beats  you  with  one  hand.' 

433.  During  his  last  command  in  the  Mediterranea 
his  officers  said  of  him,  *  Old  Nel  is  as  brave  as  a  lio 
and  as  gentle  as  a  lamb.' 

434.  He  commanded  the  squadron  that  cruised  < 
Toulon  with  astonishing  perseverance  from  May  II 
to  August  1805,  during  which  tedious  period  he  we 
out  ot  his  ship  only  three  times,  each  of  which  w; 
upon  the  king's  business,  and  neitherexceeding  an  hou 
Once  when  the  French  fleet  ventured  in  sight,  he  sal 
*  They  are  in  high  feather,  and  as  fine  as  paint  c; 
make  them.  Our  weather-beaten  ships,  if  they  dare 
meet  us,  I  have  no  fear  will  make  their  sides  appe 
like  a  plum-pudding.' 

435.  With  respect  to  the  officers  of  the  navy  he  h; 
the  most  liberal  opinions.  Lord  Barham  gave  him' 
list  of  the  navy,  and  offered  him  his  choice  of  officei 
when  he  was  going  to  take  his  last  command.  '  Choo 
yourself,  my  lord,'  said  Nelson  ;  '  the  same  spirit  a 
tuates  the  whole  profession  ;  you  cannot  choose  wrong 

England  never  produced  a  hero  who  more  entire 
possessed  the  good  opinion  of  the  public  than  lord  Nt 
son  ;  and  their  love  and  confidence  were  founded  up< 
their  conviction  of  his  matchless  courage,  skill,  and  d 
votion  to  the  service  of  his  country.  (For  his  charact 
at  large  see  the  Elements  of  General  Knowledge,  Vc 
ii.p.  358.  7th  ed.) 


FLOWERS    OP  WIT.  141 

SIR  ISAAC  NEWTON. 

I  436.  He  discovered  and  demonstrated  the  principle 
u  attraction  which  sets  the  universe  in  motion.  A  per- 
on  asked  him  by  what  means  he  bad  been  able  to  de- 
ifelope  the  system  of  the  universe.  '  By  making  it,' 
h  replied,  '  incessantly  the  subject  of  my  thoughts.' 

437.  His  Principia  Philosophies  being  made  known 
the  emperor  of  China   by  the  French  missionaries, 

le  emperor  testified  his  approbation  of  that  work  in  a 
tter  written  in  his  own  hand  in  the  Chinese  language, 
she  had  no  doubt  that  the  fame  of  Newton  was  spread 
'er  all  the  western  part  of  the  world,  and  every  person 
ere  must  know  his  residence,  he  directed  the  letter 
Mr.  Newton  in  Europe.  This  concise  address  was 
fficient  ;  the  letter  reached  the  great  English  philoso- 
aer  ;  and  he  found,  when  it  was  translated  to  him, 
at  it  contained  very  lively  expressions  of  esteem  for 
m,  and  very  high  praise  for  his  immortal  work. 

438.  Newton  had  a  great  aversion  to  controversy, 
r  he  did  not  like  to  have  the  calm  repose  of  his  life 
terrupted  by  literary  disputes.  When  his  treatise  on 
ptics  were  ready  for  the  press,  on  some  objections 
ing  made  to  it,  he  deferred  the  publication  :  '  I 
ould  reproach  myself,'  said  he,  '  was  1  to  sacrifice 
pose  which  is  a  substance,  to  run  after  reputation 
aich  is  only  a  shadow.' 

439.  He  never  disputed  in  company.  When  he  had 
slivered  an  opinion  which  any  one  chose  to  controvert, 
i  did  not  take  the  pains  to  defend  it  ;  but  contented 
raself  with  saying,  '  I  believe,  sir,  if  you  will  be  at 
e  trouble  of  examining  my  opinion,  you  will  find  I 
tve  very  good  reasons  for  it.' 

440.  He  wrote  a  Commentary  on  the  Apocalypse, 
which  he  endeavoured  to  prove  that  the  Pope  was 

iti-christ.     '  He  evidently,'   said  Voltaire,  *  wished 


12 


142  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

by  this  work,  to  make  a  compensation  to  mankind  fij 
the  superiority  he  had  gained  over  them  in  other  n 
spects.' 

441.  No  person  has, done  more  honour  to  the  genii 
of  Newton  than  Voltaire.  He  declared,  '  That  ifi 
general  assembly  could  be  convened  of  all  the  men  <| 
talents  who  ever  flourished,  they  would,  without  hesit 
tion,  assign  the  place  of  precedence  to  Newton.' 

THE  DUKE  OF  NORFOLK. 

442.  The  first  Protestant  duke  of  Norfolk,  carryir 
the  sword  of  state  before  James  IL  to  his  Popish  cha 
el,  stopped  at  the  door.  The  king,  on  going  in,  saii 
'  Your  father  would  have  gone  farther.'  The  duke  ai 
swered  j  '  But  your  father  would  not  have  gone  so  lai 


FREDERICK  LORD  NORTH. 

Such  were  his  candour,  affability,  and  pleasing  ma: 
ners,  that  he  secured  the  esteem  of  those  who  differe 
most  widely  from  him  upon  political  subjects  ;  ar 
while  they  remained  unconvinced  by  his  argument 
they  could  not  fail  to  be  delighted  with  his  facetiou 
ness. 

443.  The  lethargic  tendency  of  his  constitution  w; 
apparent  in  his  early  years.  When  he  was  a  your 
student  in  Oxford,  he  attended  the  lectures  in  expei 
mental  philosophy  ;  and  one  day,  when  an  experime 
was  to  be  tried  upon  a  cat  with  an  air-pump,  lord  Nor 
apprehensive  he  should  fall  asleep  during  a  consider 
ble  part  of  the  lecture,  said  to  his  companion  lord  Dai 
mouth,  '  Pray  wake  me  when  the  cat  comes.' 

444.  A  stranger  was  conversing  with  lord  North  in 
public  room,  and  opposite  to  them  was  a  party  of  1 
dies.    *  Pray,  my  lord,'  said  the  gentleman,  '  who 


FLdWERS  OF  WIT.  143 

at  large  ugly  woman  I  see  yonder  V  '  That,'  said  his 
rdship,  '  is  lady  North.'  '  My  dear  lord,'  said  the 
ntleman,  confused  at  his  unfortunate  observation,  and 
aking  an  effort  to  correct  it,  '  1  mean  the  lady  who 
mds  next  her.'  '  That  lady,'  said  his  lords!  ip,  '  is 
p  daughter.'  The  gentleman  was  now  speechless. 
"ome,  come,'  said  lord  North,  smiling  with  his  usual 
od-nature,  when  he  observed  his  confusion,  '  you  have 
ade  an  ingenious  but  unfortunate  eliort  to  get  out  of  a 
rape  :  I  forgive  y»ou,  for  i  believe  lady  North  and  I 
e  as  plain  a  couple  as  any  in  England.' 

445.  Hely  Hutchinson,  provost  of  Dublin  college, 
is  the  most  greedy  of  preferment  of  all  the  courtiers 
his  time.  In  addition  to  his  provostship,  he  was  re- 
iver-general for  Dublin,  &c.  &c,  and  actually  solicit 

a  majority  in  a  regiment  of  dragoons.  When  appli- 
tion  was  made  to  lord  North,  then  premier,  to  give 
is  commission  to  him,  his  lordship  observed,  '  The 
ovost  is  so  craving,  that  if  I  was  to  give  him  the 
lole  of  Ireland,  he  would  not  be  content ;  he  would 
c  for  the  Isle  of  Man  for  a  cabbage  garden.' 

446.  Very  soon  after  he  ceased  to  be  premier,  he 
;eived  a  present  of  a  turtle.  '  The  person,'  said  he, 
om  whom  this  comes,  is  too  much  a  man  of  the  world 
throw  away  his  favours  designedly.  This  turtle  is 
;h  a  very  fine  one,  that  when  he  sent  it  to  me,  I  am 
ry  certain  he  did  not  know  I  was  no  longer  in  office.' 

^47.  At  the  close  of  life  he  was  afflicted  with  the  to- 
loss  of  sight.  At  Bath  he  met  colonel  Barre,  who 
d  been  his  warm  opponent  in  the  house  of  commons, 
i  was  also  blind.  On  being  introduced  to  each  oth- 
lord  North  said, '  Colonel,  you  and  I  have  often  been 
variance  ;  but  I  believe  there  are  no  people  in  the 
rid,  who,  after  all,  would  be  more  glad  to  see  each 
ier.' 


144  FLOWERS  OF  WJT» 

DR.  OGDEN. 

448  A  blustering  Cantab  endeavoured  to  justi 
the  practice  of  profane  swearing,  in  the  company  oft 
Ogden,  the  excellent  sermon-writer.  '  At  least,'  sa 
he,  ■  doctor,  you  must  grant,  that  swearing  gives  t 
appearance  of  courage.'     *  Alas,  sir,'  said  the  doct( 

What  is  the  appearance  of  courage  !  do  not  the  lit 
birds  perch  upon  the  image  of  an  eagle  V 

OLYMPIAS. 

449.  She  was  the  illustrious  mother  of  Alexander  t 
Great.  She  was  told  that  a  certain  young  man  h 
married  a  very  beautiful  woman  ;  but  that  her  chara 
ter  was  doubtful.  '  The  bridegroom,'  said  she,  '  h' 
consulted  his  eyes  and  not  his  ears.' 

GENERAL  PACK. 

r  450  One  of  the  most  famous  divisions  of  Bonapart< 
army  was  the  70th.  It  happened  that  the  71st  Briti 
regiment,  commanded  by  brigadier-general  Pack,  1 
opposed  to  it,  and  beat  it.  This  gallant  officer  was 
terwards  asked  the  particulars  of  this  affair  ;  his  accoij 
was,  '  The  French  found  us  one  too  many  for  them.' 

PiEDARETUS. 

451.  PiEDARETus,  a  noble  youth  of  Sparta,  was  a  I 
didate  for  admission  into  the  society  of  the  the  thr 
hundred,  a  company  who  held  the  most  honoural 
rank  in  Sparta.  On  being  rejected  by  the  electo. 
so  far  from  expressing  disappointment  or  chagrin, 
went  home  in  high  spirits ;  and  being  asked  the  cam' 
said, '  I  am  rejoiced  to  find  that  Sparta  possesses  thi 
hundred  men  better  than  myself.' 

DR.  PALEY. 

452.  A  divine  most  deservedly  celebrated  for 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  145 

uteness  of  understanding,  the  soundness  of  his  judg- 
ent,  and  the  extent  of  his  attainments,  displaced  in 
Tious  moral  and  theological  works.  When  a  student 
Christ's  college,  Cambridge,  he  was  a  member  ot  the 
vson  club,  established  by  the  wranglers  of  1757  .  In 
debate  there  one  evening,  on  the  expediency  of  mak- 
g  some  alteration  in  the  Church  for  the  relief  ot  ten- 
r  consciences,  Dr.  Gordon,  fellow  of  Emanuel,  and 
terwards  precentor  of  Lincoln,  an  avowed  toiy,  warm- 
opposing  the  arguments  of  Mr.  Jebb  the  reformist, 
claimed  to  Paley,  '  You  mean,  sir,  to  impose  upon 
a  new  church  government.'  '  You  are  mistaken, 
,'  said  Paley  ;  '  Jebb  only  wants  to  ride  his  own 
>rse,  not  to  force  you  to  get  up  behind  him.' 

153.  Dr.  Paley  met  lord  Ellenborough,  on  the  north- 
n  circuit,  at  Durham.  Paley  congratulated  him  on 
;  recent  appointment  to  the  place  of  lord  chief  justice. 
rour  lordship,  said  he,  *  has  risen  higher  and  more 
>idly  than  any  man  of  whom  I  have  lately  heard, 
sept  Garnerm.''  He  alluded  to  the  aeronaut,  who 
s  at  that  time  astonishing  the  inhabitants  of  London 
his  lofty  flights. 

t54.  Speaking  of  the  character  of  Falstaff,  he  remark- 
that,  '  amongst  actors  it  was  frequently  misunder- 
od.  The  fat  knight  was  a  courtier  of  the  age  he 
ed  in  ;  a  man  of  vivacity,  humour,  and  wit  ;  a  great 
>robate  ;  but  no  buffoon.' 

THOMAS  PENNANT. 

55.  This  pleasing  tourist  always  wore  his  own 
r,  and  had  a  mortal  aversion  to  a  wig.  Dining  one 
rwith  an  officer  who  wore  one,  Pennant  made  rather 

free  with  the  bottle,  and  a  friend  who  was  in  com- 
ly  carefully  placed  himself  between  Pennant   and 

wig,  to  prevent  mischief.  After  much  patience, 
1  many  a  wistful  look,  Pennant  started  up,  seized  the 
;,  and  threw  it  into  the  fire.  It  was  in  flames  in  a 
went  ;  and  so  was  the  officer,  who  ran  to  his  sword, 


146  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

Down  stairs  ran  Pennant,  and  the  officer  after  hii 
through  all  the  streets  of  Chester.  But  Pennant  escape1 
from  superior  local  knowledge.  A  wag  called  th 
'  Pennant's  Tour  in  Chester .' 


* 


PETER  THE  GREA 

Never  was  there  a  monarch,  and  not  often  a  subjc 
jnore  diligent,  enterprising,  and  indefatigable.  I 
regulated  his  time  not  by  days,  but  by  minutes  ;  neith 
pains,  danger,  nor  defeat  dismayed  him,  ordamp 
his  courage.  He  always  took  the  most  extraordina, 
and  the  most  effectual  methods  for  the  success  of  pla( 
for  the  improvement  of  his  native  country.  As 
thought  personal  experience  necessary  in  order  to 
troduce  discipline  into  his  army  and  navy,  he  served 
a  common  soldier,  and  worked  as  a  ship-carpent< 
He  succeeded  in  all  his  magnificent  projects.  J 
found  Russia  barbarous,  and  he  left  it  comparative 
civilised. 

456.  When  he  sent  his  propositions  for  peace 
Charles  XII.,  that  prince  haughtily  replied,  '  I  v\ 
treat  with  Peter  only  in  the  capital  of  his  dominion. 
When  this  answer  was  brought  to  Peter,  he  said  coi, 
ly,  '  My  brother  Charles  is  continually  affecting  to 
the  part  of  Alexander;  but  I  flatter  myself  that  he  n| 
not  find  me  a  Darius.' 


457.  He  caused  many  excellent  books  to  be  transfy 
ed  into  the  Russian  language,  and  among  others,  Pi, 
endorffs  Introduction  to  the  Knowledge  of  the  Sta!( 
of  Europe.  A  monk,  to  whom  this  translation  w 
committed,  presented  it  to  the  emperor  ;  who,  turni 
over  the  leaves,  exclaimed  with  an  indignant  air,  ■  Fo 
what  did  1  order  thee  to  do  ?  is  this  a  translation 
Then  referring  to  the  original,  he  showed  him  a  pai 
graph,  in  which  the  author  had  spoken  with  great ; 
perity  of  the  Russians,  but  the  translator  had  omitt 
it,  v  Go  instantly,'  said  the  czar,  4  and  execute  my  < 
dejs  rigidly.    It  is  not  to  flatter  my  subjects  that  I  ha 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  1  47 

is  book  translated  and  printed,  but  to  instruct  and  to 
[form  them.' 

458.  In  1704,  he  took  the  city  of  Narva  by  assault, 
is  troops  in  defiance  of  his  orders  sacrificed  every 
jing  to  fire  and  sword.  He  threw  himself  into  the 
jidst  of  his  mutinous  men,  rescued  the  women  from 
leir  insults,  and  killed  two  of  his  soldiers  with  his  own 
Lnds.  He  then  entered  the  town-hall,  where  many  of 
le  terrified  citizens  had  fled  for  refuge,  and  throwing 

sword  upon  the  table,  '  It  is  not  with  the  blood  of 
ur  townsmen,'  said  he,  '  that  this  sword  is  stained, 
t  with  that  of  my  own  soldiers,  whose  lives  I  have 
ien  to  save  yours.' 

459.  He  gained  a  complete  victory  over  Charles 
I.  at  the  battle  of  Pultowa,  on  July  8th,  1709.     He 

)k  many  officers  prisoners,  among  whom  was  Ren- 
Id,  general  of  the  Swedish  army.  He  was  conduct- 
to  the  Russian  camp,  and  invited  to  dine  with   the 

ar  on  the  day  of  the  victory. 

When  the  czar  expressed  his  surprise,  that  the 
redes  had  ventured  to  march  into  a  country  so  distant 
m  their  own,  and  had  laid  siege  to  Pultowa  with  so 
all  a  number  of  troops  ;  '  We  have  not  always  been 
lsulted,'  said  Renchild  ;  '  but  as  faithful  subjects  we 
eyed  the  orders  of  our  master  without  canvassing 
ir  propriety.'  The  czar  turned  to  some  of  his  cour- 
rs,  formerly  suspected  of  being  implicated  in  a  con- 
racy  against  him  :  '  Observe,5  said  he,  '  gentlemen, 
;va  sovereign  ought  to  be  obeyed.'  Then  filling  a 
ss  with  wine,  '  I  drink,'  said  he  '  to  the  health  of  our 
sters  in  the  art  of  war.'  Renchild  asked  him  who 
I  the  honour  to  deserve  a  title  so  noble.  4  Yourself,' 
died  Peter,  *  and  the  other  Swedish  generals.' 
our  majesty  is  very  ungrateful  then,'  said  Renchild, 

have  treated  your  instructors  so  severely.'  After 
ner  the  czar  ordered  their  swords  to  be  restored, 
1  behaved  to  all  his  prisoners  with  great  condescen- 

and  kindness, 


148  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

460.  The  voice  of  his  empress  Catharine  was 
charm  sufficiently  powerful  to  appease  his  rage.  SI 
and  she  alone,  could  recall  him  to  sentiments  of  t 
manity,  to  virtue,  and  to  himself. 

He  sometimes  blushed  at  his  involuntary  fits  of  ang< 
and  exclaimed  with  confusion  and  grief,  '  Alas!  I  ; 
trying  to  reform  my  people,  and  cannot  reform  m 
self.' 

MR.  PETIT. 

461.  '  As  your  skill  in  your  profession  is  so  grea 
said  a  pers  n  to  Mr.  Petit  the  celebrated  French  an; 
omist,  '  why  do  you  not  cure  all  the  diseases  of  t 
human  body  V  '  My  skill  may  be  great,'  replied  ft 
Petit  :  but  unfortunately  we  anatomists  are  like  t 
porters  of  Paris,  who  are  well  acquainted  with  all  t 
streets,  but  are  ignorant  of  what  is  passing  in  the  hoi 
es.' 


PHAVORINUS. 

462.  This  philosopher  maintained  an  argument  wes! 
ly  dgainstthe  emperor  Adrian.  One  of  his  friends  sa1 
1  You  have  not  disputed  with  your  usual  strength  ' 
reasoning  to  day.'  '  Would  you,'  said  the  philosoph! 
have  me  show  my  strength  of  reasoning,  when  I  am  c(| 
tending  with  the  commander  of  thirty  legions  V 

PHOCYON. 

463.  Phocyon,  the  great  Athenian  general,  havi 
finished  a  speech  was  applauded  by  the  populace, 
fear,'  said  he,  when  he  heard  their  acclamations,  'I  ha 
said  something  foolish.' 

Did  ever  any  of  the  modem  orators,  who  are  fond 
haranguing  ihe  mob  in  Palace-yard  and  such  plac: 
read  this  anecdote  ? 


FLOWERS   OF    WIT.  149 

PIGALLE. 

464.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  an  anecdote  record- 

[  more   honourable  to   the   benevolence  of  an  artist, 

I  indeed  of  any  man,  than  the  following. — Pigalle, 

e  celebrated  sculptor,  who  had  laid   by  twelve    louis 

prs  for  a  journey  from  Lyons  to  Paris,  seeing  a  man 

fio  was  walking  with  visible  marks  of  deep-felt  sor- 

|.v  in  his  countenance,  accosted  him,  and  asked  if  he 

jld  in  any  way  relieve  him.     '  Ah,   sir,'  exclaimed 

stranger,  '  for  want  of  ten  louis,  I  must  be  dragged 

s  evening  to  a   prison,  and  be  separated  from  my 

ar  wife  and  helpless  children.'     '  Is  that  all  V  said 

humane   artist :  '  follow  me,   I  can  command   the 

n  you  want,  and  it  shall   be  at   your  service.'    A 

nd  who  met  him  next  day,  asked  if  he  had  reliev- 

the  distress  of  this  poor  man,  as   was  publicly  re- 

rted  in  Lyons.     k  Yes,   friend,'   said  Pigalle,  'fand 

at  a  delicious  supper  did   I  make  last  night,  upon 

ad  and  cheese,  with  his  family,  who  blessed  me  at 

ry  mouthful  they  ate,  and  every  mouthful  was  mois 

d  with  the  tears  of  their  gratitude  V 

ALEXIS  PIRON. 

Ie  was  a  dramatic  writer  of  considerable  repute, 
conversation  was  distinguished  by  repartees  always 
ck  and  lively,  and  sometimes  bitter  and  malignant. 
je  exalted  opinion  he  entertained  of  his  own  talents, 
need  him  to  exercise  great  severity  upon  the  lite- 
v  productions  of  others. 

65.  An  indifferent  but  conceited  author  one  day 
ve  to  ask  his  assistance.  '  As  I  know  you  are  a 
l  of  ready  invention,  and  I  want  to  write  something 
;inal,  pray  suggest  to  me  a  subject  for  a  work  that 
never  been  written  upon  before.'  *  Write'  said 
>n,  '  your  own  panegyric' 

J6.  When  the  Semiramis  of  Voltaire  was  acted  the 
time,  far  from  being  received  with  all  the  applause 
3h  the  confident  author  vainly  anticipated,  it  went 
very  heavily.  As  Voltaire  was  coming  from  the 
13 


150  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

play-house,  he  met  Piron,  and  asked  him  his  opinion  < 
it.  *  I  think,*  said  Piron,  *  you  would  have  been  iTei 
glad  if  I  had  written  it.' 

467.  Piron  had  foretold  the  fate  of  a  stupid  play  I 
its  author,  and  the  event  justified  his   prediction, 
have  aft  Jeast  this  consolation,'  said  the  author, '  tt 
audience  did  not  hiss  my  play.'  'I  believe  you,'  said  P 
ron,  *  for  you  know  it  is  impossible  to  gape  and  hiss 
the  same  time.' 

468.  A  tragic  poet  read  a  work  to  him,  in  which  I 
had  been  so  great  a  plagiary  as  to  introduce  sever 
whole  borrowed  verses  into  his  piece.  While  he  w 
reading,  Piron  very  often  took  off  his  hat.  '  What 
the  reason,'  said  the  pilfering  poet,  '  of  your  singul 
behaviour  in  taking  your  hat  off  so  frequently  V  "  M 
conduct,  replied  f'iron,  *  is  not  singular ;  for  it  is  a 
ways  my  custom  to  make  a  bow  whenever  I  meet  ai 
of  my  old  acquaintance.' 

469.  He  was  requested  to  make  some  correctio 
in  his  tragedy  of  Ferdinand  Cortez.  At  the  bare  me 
tion  of  corrections  he  flew  into  a  violent  rage.  Hi9  a 
viser  adverted  to  the  example  of  Voltaire,  who  had 
the  public  request  repeatedly  revised  his  piece 
'  There  is  a  great  difference,'  said  he,  '  in  the  tv 
persons  ;  Voltaire  is  an  embroiderer,  and  I  make  fi| 
ures  in  bronze.'  If  this  reply  be  not  modest,  it 
certainly  energetic. 

470.  The  unbending  temper  and  caustic  raillery 
Piron  occasioned  his  expulsion  from  the  French  Aca 
emy.    *  I  cannot,1  said  he,  ■  compel  thirty-nine  men 
think  as  I  do,  nor  can  I  think  with  thirty -nine.' 

471.  He  wrote  his  own  epitaph  in  a  style  of  hum 
ity,  pointed  with  a  bitter  sarcasm  against  the  Fren 
Academicians  : 

*  CegU  Piron,  qui  nefut  rien, 
Pas  mrme  Academic ten.' 


THE 

FLOWERS  OF  WIT, 

OR- 
A   CHOICE     COLLECTION 
or 

BON  MOTS, 

BOTH    ANTIENT     AND  MODERN, 

WITH 

tlOCRAPHICAL    AND   CRITICAL   REMARKS. 


BY  HENRY   KETT, 

;thor  of  the  elements  of  general  knowledge 


CpMPLETE   IN   TWO    VOLUMES. 
VOL.     XZ. 


1825. 


THE 

FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 


PART  I-  (Continued.) 

m  Mots  referred  to  their  Authors,  and  the  Names  of 
those  Authors  alphabetically  arranged. 


WILLIAM  PITT. 

472.  The  fashionable  hours  of  the  present  times 
re  neatly  censured  by  him.  '  Mr.  Pitt,'  said  the 
:hess  of  Gordon, '  1  wish  you  to  dine  with  me  at  ten 
i  evening.'  '  I  must  decline  the  honour,'  said  the 
mier,  '  for  I  am  engaged  to  sup  with  the  bishop  of 
icoln  at  nine.' 

73.  '  Pray,' said  the  same  facetious  lady, '  Mr.  Pitt, 
fou  know  every  thing  that  is  moving  in  the  political 
Id,  tell  me  some  news.'  '  I  am  sorry,  madam,1  said 
discreet  premier,  *  I  cannot  oblige  you,  as  I  have 
yet  read  the  papers  of  the  day.'    « 

I 

74.  This  great  statesman  was  known,  when  retired 
n  public  business  into  the  circle  of  his  friends,  to  lit- 
is* 


4  FLOWERS  OP  WIT. 

dulge  in  light  and  playful  conversation.  He  even  coi 
descended  to  punning.  When  enjoying  himself  with 
convivial  party  at  Walmer  Castle,  the  expected  inv? 
sion  of  the  French  from  the  opposite  shores  was  talke 
of,  and  one  of  his  friends  asked  him  *  What  dependenc 
can  you  place  upon  your  Cinque-Port  volunteers  ?  f( 
you  know  some  of  them  are  millers,  and  others  ai 
custom-house  officers.'  *  O,'  said  Pitt,  'these  are  tfc 
very  men  in  whose  military  talents  I  can  confide  :  ev< 

S7  miller  is  a  marshal  Saxe,  and  every  custom-house  o 
cer  is  a  Caesar.' 

475.  The  duchess  of  Gordon  expressed  great  pleai, 
ure  at  meeting  him  after  a  long  absence,  and  asked  hii, 
many  questions.  Among  the  rest—'  Pitt,'  said  sb 
'  have  you  talked  as  much  nonsense  as  you  used  to  d< 
since  we  last  met?'  'Madam,'  he  replied,  '  1  have  n< 
heard  so  much.' 

476.  Although  not  a  profound  classical  scholar,  I 
was  sufficiently  conversant  with  some  of  the  best  Laf 
authors,  to  make  a  most  happy  and  impressive  applicr 
tion  of  passages  in  their  works  to  subjects  in  debate. 

He  was  one  day  very  closely  pressed  in  the  house 
commons  by  Mr.  Fox,  to  avow  what  was  the  precii; 
object  of  the  cabinet  ministers  in  the  war  against  I  ranc| 
and  particularly,  if  it  had  an  immediate  reference 
the  restoration  of  the  Bourbon  family  to  the   throne 
their  ancestors.    Mr.  Pitt  candidly  replied,  '  With  re 
pect  to  myself,  I  have  no  hesitation  to  declare  to  t|l 
honourable  gentleman,  that  as  far  as  I  am  concerned 
such  a  specific  and  definite   object  as  that  which  I 
names,  is  the  favourite  subject  oi  my  thoughts  ;  it  is  tl 
darling  object  of  my  ambition,  and  its  accomplishme 
would  constitute  the  greatest  glory  of  my  life — To  adq 
the  words  of  JEneas  : 

Me  si  fata  meis  paler  entur  ducere  vilam 
Auspiciis,  el  sponle  mea  componere  curas  ; 
Urban  Trqfanam  primum,  dukesaue  meorum 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  O 

Reliquias  cohrem  ;  Priami  tecta  alta  manerenl ; 
Et  recidiva  manu  posuisstm  Pergama  victis.'* 

477.  Impromptu  on  seeing  the  statue  of  Mr.  Pitt  pla- 
id above  all  the  monuments  in  Westminster  Abbey ; — 

1  See  the  just  image  of  bis  noble  mind, 
Dead,  as  alive,  he  soars  o'er  all  minkind.' 

CHRISTOPHER  PITT,  THE  POET. 

478.  Benson,  who  wrote  a  pamphlet  to  expose  Dry- 
n  s  Translation  of  Virgil,  was  fond  of  the  alliteration 
*. which  Pitt  was  remarkable.  Pitt  thought  it  an  ex- 
llence  far  less  considerable  than  Benson  did  ;  *  But,' 
d  he,  '  since  you  like  it  so  well,  this  couplet  upon 
rdinal  Wolsey  will  not  displease  you  : — 

*  Begot  by  butchers,  but  by  bishops  bred, 
How  high  his  honour  holds  his  haughty  head.' 

PLATO. 

This  sublime  and  visionary  philosopher  adorned  the 
iple  precepts  of  his  master  Socrates  with  the  flowers 
lis  eloquence.  His  Dialogues  are  subtle  and  verbose 
the  extreme  ;  and  his  treatise  on  a  republic  is  a  ro- 
nce  ;  of  his  acuteness  in  conversation,  there  are  satis- 
tory  evidences. 

179.  Plato  was  asked,  when  he  thought  all  the  peo- 
of  the  world  would  be  happy.  He  replied,  *  Ei- 
r  when  wise  men  are  kings,  or  kings  are  wise  men.' 

180.  Diogenes  paying  Plato  a  visit,  trod  on  his  rich 
pets  with  his  dirty  feet.  '  See,'  said  he,  c  how  I 
mple  on  the  pride  of  Plato.'  '  True,'  said  Plato, 
it  with  greater  pride.' 

PLUTARCH. 

181.  His  advice  to  the  unfortunate  is  very  ingenious. 
*Virg.  iEn.  4. 


6  FLOWERS    OF    WlT» 

and  ought  to  be  consolatory.  *  Consider,'  says  the  ph 
losopher,  '  you  equal  the  happiest  men  in  the  one  ha 
of  your  life  at  least ;  that  half,  1  mean,  which  yc 
spend  in  sleep.1 

CARDINAL  POLE. 

482.  In  a  company  where  cardinal  Pole  was,  th 
conversation  turned  on  a  young  man,  who  was  vei 
learned,  but  very  noisy  and  turbulent.  The  cardin;| 
remarked,  '  that  learning  in  such  young  men,  is  lilt  I 
new  wine  in  the  vat,  there  it  works  and  ferments ;  bi 
after  it  is  put  into  a  vessel,  having  gathered  its  strengl  ] 
together,  it  settles,  and  is  quiet  and  still.' 

483.  Some  letters  were  shown  to  him,  that  had  bee 
written  to  console  a  great  man  on  the  death  of  some  < 
his  friends.  These  letters  were  composed  in  the  moi 
pompous  manner,  and  were  adorned  with  all  the  flowei 
of  a  gaudy  and  affected  style.  *  I  never  read  any  le 
ters,'  said  the  cardinal,  *  more  calculated  to  answer  th 
purpose  of  assuaging  grief,  for  I  defy  any  man  to  rea' 
them  without  laughing  heartily. 

ALEXANDER  POPE. 

484.  As  he  complimented  all  persons  of  title,  so  h 
did  lord  Bolingbroke  in  the  highest  style  of  adulatioi( 
He  always  spoke  of  this'  guide,  philosopher  and  friend 
as  a  being  of  a  superior  order,  that  had  co.idescende! 
in  pity  to  the  moral  wants  of  mankind,  to  visit  this  low[ 
er  world.  In  particular,  when  a  comet  appeared  an 
approached  the  earth,  he  told  some  of  his  acquaintance 
4  It  was  only  sent  to  convey  lord  Bolingbroke  hooi 
again,  just  as  a  stage-coach  stops  at  a  door  to  take  u| 
a  passenger.' 

485.  Once  dining  with  Frederick  prince  of  Wales 
he  paid  the  prince  many  compliments.  4  I  wondei 
Pope,'  said  the  prince,  *  that  you,  who  are  so  sevei 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  7 

Don  kings,  should  be  so  complaisant  to  me.'  '  It  is,' 
"d  Pope,  *  because  I  like  the  lion  before  his  claws  are 
own.' 

AN  INFALLIBLE  POPE. 

4S6.  '  When  I  was  at  Cambridge,'  said  Mr.  Fuller, 
lere  was  a  current  but  false  report,  that  Pope  Urban 
II.  was  imprisoned  by  his  cardinals  in  the  castle  of 
Angelo.  Whereupon  a  witty  lad,  a  scholar  in  the 
iversity,  said, '  Jam  verissimum  est  papam  nonposse 
are.1 

PROFESSOR  PORSON. 

The  compiler  of  this  work  has  reason  to  lament,  that 

hope  he  expressed  five  years  ago,*     *  That  the  tal- 

and  attainments  of  this  extraordinary  man  would 

duly  appreciated  by  some  able  biographer,'  has  not 
been  realized.     The  accounts  that   have  hitherto 

n  published  of  him,  are  hasty,  meagre,  and  inaccu- 

They  may  show  the  zeal  of  the  respective  writ- 

but  they  afford  few  proofs  of  the  diligence  of  their 

jarches,  or  of  that  expansion  of  critical  judgment 

essary  for  the  full  comprehension  of  such  a  subject 

he  richly  gifted,  and  amply  stored  mind  of  Porson. 

orson  could  illustrate  any  topic  connected  with  the 
»  range  of  his  studies  with  so  much  information, 
carry  it  to  such  an  extent,  as  generally  to  surprise 
often  to  instruct  all  the  company  around  him.     As 

irent  occasions  called  for  the  display  of  his  talents, 

vas  keenly  sarcastic,  drily  humorous,  or  playfully 
Imperfect  recollection  supplies   the    following 

ty  and  perhaps  inaccurate  instances  of  his  colloquial 

es. 

37.    He   made  this   candid  confession  ;    *  When  I 

Veface  to  the  Elements  of  General  Knowledge,  edition 
eventh. 


8  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

was  seventeen  years  of  age,  I  thought  I  knew  eve 
thing ;  as  soon  as  I  was  twenty-four,  an<}  had  re 
Bentley>  1  found  1  knew  nothing.' 

488.  So  far  from  lending  an  ear  to  flattery,  he  y 
averse  to  that  praise  which  was  justly  his  due.  An  j 
thor,  to  whom  in  the  most  obliging  manner  he  had  g 
en  some  literary  assistance,  said  to  him  :  '  I  wish 
make  you  a  public  acknowledgment  in  the  next  editi 
of  my  work.'  '  1  decline  your  offer,'  said  Porso 
*  for  you  may  say  something  in  compliment  to  me  t) 
we  may  both  be  ashamed  of  ten  years  hence.' 

489.  Herman,  the  editor  of  a  work  on  Greek  met 
accused  Porson  of  being  very  dogmatical  upon  that  si 
ject.    This  attack  produced  the  following  lines  : 

1  The  Germans  in  Greek 
Are  sadly  to  seek. 
Not  five  in  five  score, 
But  ninety-five  more ; 
All  sa\eonly  Herman, 
And  Herman's  a  German.' 

490.  A  great  admirer  of  Gibbon  commended  his  st 
in  very  high  terms.  The  professor  listened  to  him,  w 
a  sneer  of  disapprobation,  but  for  some  time  said 
thing  On  being  pressed  for  his  opinion  :  '  Gibbc 
said  he,  '  is  too  uniform  ;  he  writes  in  the  same  flowl 
and  pompous  style  upon  every  subject.  He  is  1 
Christie  the  auctioneer,  who  says  as  much  in  praise 
a  ribbon  as  of  a  Raphael.' 

491.  Some  person  talked  to  the  professor  in 
most  exaggerated  terms  of  the  poems  that  had  b< 
published  by  sir  James  B.  Burgess  and  P.  Pybus  ;  i 
this  puffer  asserted,  that  they  would  obtain  more  fa 
in  times  to  come  than  Homer,  Virgil,  or  Milton, 
doubt,'  said  Porson, '  they  will  be  praised  by  all  m 
kind,  when  Homer,  Virgil,  and  Milton  are  forgotten 
and  not  before.9 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  ? 

PORTRAITS. 

492.  Many  persons  have  declined  to  have  their  por- 
ihs  taken  from  pride,  which  sometimes  assumes  the 
ess  of  modesty.  Monsieur  Dassier  the  medallist,  as 
ill  as  De  la  Tour  the  painter,  could  not  prevail  on 
ron  Montesquieu  to  sit  for  his  portrait,  till  the  for- 
;r,  with  an  air  of  pleasantry,  said  to  him,  4  Do  not  you 
Ink  there  is  as  much  pride  in  refusing  my  request, 
[there  would  appear  in  granting  it  ?'  Upon  this  he 
bsently  yielded. 

PRINCE  CHARLES,  commonly  called 
THE  PRETENDER. 

(Fhere  is  sufficient  evidence  to  prove,  that  the  Pre- 
der  was  in  London  in  the  year  1753.  He  appeared 
i  card-party  at  lady  Primrose's  ;  the  servant observ- 
how  very  like  the  stranger  was  to  the  picture  of  the 
nee,  which  hung  on  the  chimney-piece  in  the  room 
which  he  entered. 

ie  walked  in  broad  day  in  St.  James's  Park,  and 
seen  coming  out,  and  was  recognized  by  several 
•sons,  and  among  others  by  Dr.  Smith,  professor  of 
unetry  in  Oxford,  who  mentioned  the  circumstance 
everal  of  his  friends  in  Oxford  afterwards. 

93.  Mr.  Hume,  the  historian,  told  all  he  had  heard 

m  the  above  subject   to  lord  Holderness.  who  was 

retary  of  state  in  1753  ;  and  he  added,  that  proba- 

this  piece  of  intelligence  had  escaped  him.     ■  By 

means,1  said  he  ;  '  and  who  do  you   think  first  told 

the  Pretender  was  in  London  ?  It  was  the  king  him- 

':  who  added,  And  what  do  you  think,  my  lord,  I 

uld   do  with  him  V    Lord  Holderness  confessed  he 

puzzled  how   to  reply.      The  king  perceived  his 

>arrassment,  and  extricated  him  from  it,  by  saying  : 

7  lord,  I  shall  just  do  nothing  at  all  ;  and  when  he 

[red  ot  England,  he  will  go  abroad  again.' 

his  story  ought  to  be  generally  known,  as  a  remark- 


10 

able  proof  of  the  moderation  and  prudence  of  Ki 
George' II. 

PRIOR. 

He  was  a  skilful  versifier,  rather  than  an  original  po 
and  possessed  a  happy  facility  of  expressing  the  id( 
he  borrowed  from  his  predecessors  in  neat  and  flo 
ing  rhymes.  He  showed  much  of  the  airy  vivac 
which  marked  the  French  poets  of  the  same  peric 
and  like  them,  excelled  in  the  pleasantries  of  c( 
versation. 

494.    In    a  gay  French  company,    when  every  c: 
sang  a  little  song  or  stanza,  of  which  the  burden  v 
* Bannissons'Ja  melancholie ;'  when  it  came  to  his  turn 
sing,  after  the  performance  of  a  young  lady  that 
next   him,  he  produced  these  extemporary  lines  : 

'•Mais  cetle  voix,   et  ces  beaux  yeaux, 
Font  cupidon  trop  danger  eux  ; 
Etje  suit  triste,  quandje  crie, 
Bannissons  la    melancholic* 

495.  As  he  was  surveying  the  apartments  at  Versailli 
being  shown  the  victories  of  Louis   XIV.    painted 
Le  Brun,   and  asked   whether  the  king  of  Englaml 
palace  had  anysuch  decorations  ;  'The  monuments 
my  master's  actions,'   said  Prior,  'are  to  be  seen  eve 

where  but  in  his  own  house.1 

496.  When  he  was  ambassador  at  Paris,  he  wij 
one  night  to  the  Opera,  and  sat  in  the  same  box  w 
a  nobleman,  who,  as  is  the  custom  in  France,  sung  loi 
er  than  the  performer  on  the  stage.  Prior  burst 
into  violent  invectives  against  the  performer  ;  u\. 
which  the  nobleman  ceased  singing,  asked  Prior  vt 
seriously  the  reason  of  his  abuse,  and  assured  him  up 
his  honour  that  the  person  he  exclaimed  against  had  o> 
of  the  finest  voices  in  Europe,  'That  may  be,'  said  P 
or ;  but  how  can  I  have  any  patience  with  a  fellow  mi\ 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  1  1 

\g  such  a  horrid  noise,  that  I  cannot  have  the   pleas- 
•e  of  hearing  your  lordship  V 

i  497.  Towards  the  close  of  his  life  he  became  deaf,  or 

[  least  thought  himself  so.     When  some  person  asked 

m,  whether  he  had  ever  observed  himself  deaf  when 

was  in  office  ;    '  Faith,'  replied  he,  '  I  was  then  so 

aid  of  my  head,  that  I  did  not  much  attend  to  my 

rs.' 

PSALMANAZAR. 

498.  Me  endeavoured  to  impose  upon  the  public,  by 
^tending  to  be  a  native  of  an  island  he  called  For- 
>sa.  One  day  as  he  was  enlarging  upon  its  beauties, 
;entleman,  who  had  no  great  relish  for  his  flights  of 
cy,  remarked  to  him  :  '  If  this  island  be  in  the  lati- 
leyou  describe,  the  sun  must  shine  perpendicularly 
vn  the  chimneys,  and  put  all  the  fires  out.'  *  O  sir,' 
1  Psalmanazar  without  any  hesitation,  '  the  inhabi- 
ts are  aware  of  this  inconvenience,  and  so  all  the. 
mneys  are  built  obliquely.' 

DANIEL   PURCELL. 

i99.  He  was  a  very  determined  nonjuror.  He  told  a 
ndofhis,  that  when  king  George  I.  landed  at  Green- 
fa,  he  had  a  full  view  of  him.  '  Then,'  said  his  friend, 
u  know  him  by  sight.'  '  Yes,'  replied  Purcell,  '.I 
k  I  know  him,  but  I  cannot  swear  to  him.' 

IE    DUCHESS   OF   QUEENSBURY. 

DO.  The  duchess  was  the  patroness  of  Gay,  and 
tig  fond  of  the  company  of  his  brother-wits,  invited 
rty,  consisting  of  Addison,  Pope,  Swift,  and  Arbuth- 
to  dine  with  him  at  her  table.  Addison  talked 
»  ;  and  what  he  said  was  with  such  embarrassment, 
he  could  hardly  finish  a  sentence.  Pope  was  the 
^r  of  the  company  ;  his  voice  was  shrill,  and  he 
I  i 


.12  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 


made  many  tart  observations.  Swift  was  in  one  of  fc 
odd  humours,  and  was  determined  to  tease  the  duches 
so,  as  soon  as  the  company  were  seated  at  dinner, 
complained  he  had  left  his  snuff-box  behind  him,  a 
requested  one  of  the  servants  might  be  sent  for  it.  ] 
soon  after  complained  of  the  want  of  his  tooth-pick  cai 
and  a  second  servant  was  despatched  for  that,  which 
described  as  an  indispensable  requisite  to  his  comfo 
He  then  complained  of  the  want  of  his  pocket-bot 
and  a  third  servant  was  sent  for  that :  in  short,  he  c< 
trived  to  have  so  many  distinct  wants,  that  not  a  sinj 
servant  was  left  in  the  room.  The  duchess  look 
around,  and  seeing  no  servants  ;  '  Gentlemen,'  said  si 
'  we  are  reduced  to  such  a  state  that  we  must  wait  uj 
ourselves.  If  I  want  a  piece  of  bread  or  a  clean  plaf 
I  shall  rise  and  help  myself,  and  you  must  do  the  sam 
Swift,  finding  his  scheme  of  putting  the  duchess  out 
humour  had  failed,  sat  in  sullen  silence  ;  but  Gay,  a 
jolly  figure,  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair  in  an  i 
moderate  fit  of  laughter,  delighted  at  his  mortificati 
1  I  am  now  fully  convinced,'  said  he,  '  of  what  I  h; 
often  heard  ;  that  her  grace,  our  noble  hostess,  is 
best-natured  woman  in  the  world.' 

QUIN. 

501.  Qijin  thought  angling  a  very  cruel  diverse 
and  on  being  asked  why,  gave  this  reason  :  '  Supp 
some  superior  being  should  bait  a  hook  with  venis 
and  go  a  quinning  ;  I  should  certainly  bite,  and  wh« 
figure  I  should  make  dangling  in  the  air  I' 


502.  Quin  told  lady  Berkeley,  who  was  a  beaut 
woman,  that  she  looked  blooming  as  the  spring  ;  I 
recollecting  that  the  season  was  not  then  very  pror 
ing,  he  added,  '  I  wish  the  spring  would  look  like  y 
ladyship.' 


503.  A  young  fellow,  whose  talent  lay  in  come 
came  to  offer  himself  to  the  play-house  ;  and  ha\ 
«iven  a  specimen  of  his  abilities,  Mr.  Quin  asked  i: 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  13 


504.  When  manager,  he  kept  a  tragedy  so  long  that 
he  author  called  frequently  ;  and  being  very  angry, 
|uin  sent  him  to  his  bureau  and  desired  him  to  take  it. 
\fter  searching  for  some  time  among  several  other  plays, 
nd  not  finding  his  own  ;  '  Well,'  said  Quin,  '  be  con- 
;nt— take  two  comedies  and  a  farce  for  it.' 

505.  Being  asked,  what  he  thought  of  the  conduct 
T  the  people  of  England  with  regard  to  the  Bottle  Con- 
jrer,  Elizabeth  Canning,  and  the  Cock-Lane  Ghost ; 
Tbe  first,'  he  answered,  '  was  a  proof  of  their  ridicu- 
>us  credulity  ;  the  second,  of  their  extravagant  folly  ; 
nd  the  last,  of  their  blind  superstition.' 

RACINE. 

506.  '  In  one  year  I  have  written  half  a  dozen  trage- 
ies,'  said  an  arrogant  scribbler  to  Racine  ;  but  you 
ave  written  only  one  tragedy  in  half  a  dozen  years.* 
True,'  said  the  poet ;  '  but  my  tragedy  was  Athalia. 
id  you  never  read  Esop's  Fables  ?  Some  one  re- 
roached  a  lioness  that  she  brought  but  one  young  one 

a  birth.  I  allow  it,  she  replied  ;  but  that  one  is  a 
on.' 

DR.  RADCLIFFE. 

507.  Attending  an  intimate  friend  in  a  dangerous 
ness,  he  declared,  in  an  unusual  strain  of  generosity, 
iat  he  would  not  take  a  fee.  At  last  when  the  cure 
as  complete,  and  the  physician  was  taking  his  leave, 
I  have  put  every  day's  fee,'  said  the  patient,  *  in  thw 
jrse,  my  dear  doctor  ;  nor  must  your  goodness  get  the 
Iter  of  my  gratitude.'  The  doctor  eyed  the  purse, 
anted  the  days  of  his  attendance  in  a  moment ;  and 


14  FLOWERS    OE    WIT. 

then  extending  his  hand  by  a  kind  of  professional  m 
chanical   motion,  replied  :    '  Well,   1  can  hold  out 
longer  :  single  J  could  have  refused  the  guineas  ;  bi 
all  together,  they  are  irresistible.' 

508.  He  could  never  be  brought  to  pay  bills  withe 
much  importunity.  A  paviour,  after  long  and  fruith 
attempts,  caught  him  just  getting  out  of  his  chariot 
his  own  door  in  Bloomsbury  Square,  and  set  upon  hir 
1  Why,  you  rascal,'  said  the  doctor,  l  do  you  prete 
to  be  paid  for  such  a  piece  of  work?  why,  you  ha 
spoiled  my  pavement,  and  then  covered  it  over  w 
earth  to  hide  your  bad  work,'  4  Doctor,'  said  the  pa1 
our.  '  mine  is  not  the  only  bad  work  that  the  eai 
hides.'  '  You  dog  you,'  said  the  doctor,  k  are  yoi 
wit  ?  You  must  then  be  poor,  so  come  in  :'  and  he  p3 
him. 

509-  Amongst  the  many  faceti<z  related  of  Dr.  Ra 
cliffe,  it  has  been  noticed,  that  when  he  was  in  a  cc 
vivial  party  he  was  very  unwilling  to  leave  it,  ev 
though  sent  for  by  persons  of  the  highest  distinctk 
Whilst  he  was  thus  deeply  engaged  at  a  tavern,  a  p< 
son  called  in  order  to  induce  the  doctor  to  visit  his  wi 
who  was  dangerously  ill  ;  but  no  entreaties  could  pi 
vail  on  the  disciple  of  ifcsculapius  to  postpone  his  s 
crifice  to  Bacchus.  Enraged  at  the  doctor's  obstinai 
the  man,  who  was  very  strong,  took  him  up  in  his  arn 
and  carried  him  off  in  spite  of  his  resistance.  Radcli 
was  at  first  much  enraged,  particularly  as  the  circui' 
stance  excited  much  laughter  amongst  the  spectatoil 
Having  cooled  a  little,  however,  before  he  was  i 
down,  he  listened  to  the  apology  of  the  husband,  w 
excused  himself  for  his  rudeness  by  the  extreme  illni 
of  his  wife  ;  he  then  exclaimed  with  an  oath,  in  his  ust 
manner,  '  Now,  you  impudent  dog,  I'll  be  revenged 
you,  for  I'll  cure  your  wife  !' 

510.  Dr.  Radcliffe  used  to  threaten  some  of  his  bre: 
ren  of  the  faculty,  *  That  he  would  leave  the  wh( 
mystery  of  physic  behind  him,  written  on  half  a  shf 
of  paper.' 


FLOWERS    eF    WIT.  15 

SIR  WALTER  RALEIGH. 

fell.  This  all-accomplished  knight  was  author  of 
The  History  of  the  World,  the  design  of  which  was 
qua!  to  the  greatness  of  his  mind,  and  the  execution  to 
(he  strength  of  his  parts  and  the  variety  of  his  learning, 
ftaleigh  seems  to  have  written  for  posterity,  lord  Bacon 
or  the  rei^n  of  James  I.  He  said  with  great  calmness 
d  some  el  his  friends,  who  deplored  his  confinement 
l/hen  he  lay  under  sentence  of  death  ;  *  The  world 
self  is  but  a  larger  prison,  out  of  which  some  are  daily 
elected  for  execution.' 

ALLEN  RAMSAY. 

1  512.  This  pleasing  author  of  the  pastoral  comedy 
illed  '  The  Gentle  Shepherd,'  wrote  the  following 
oigram,  on  receiving  the  present  of  an  orange  from 
ijie  countess  of  Aboyne  : — 

"  Now,  Priam's  son,  thou  may'st  be  mute, 
For  I  can  proudly  vie  with  thee  ; 
Thou  to  the  fairest  gave  the  fruit, 
The  fairest  gave  the  fruit  to  me.' 

RAPHAEL. 

This  artist,  deservedly  called  the  Divine,  whose 
inductions  astonish  and  delight  the  world,  lived  only 
lirty-seven  years. 

1613.  He  was  once  asked  by  what  means  be  had 
teched  such  perfection  in  his  art.  His  reply  was,  *  I 
Ink  nothing  that  belongs  to  it  beneath  my  attention.' 

;  514.  He  possessed  too  much  good  sense  and  candour 

|  take  offence  at  any  just  criticism  ;  but  he  could  not 

dure  the  censure  of  the  presumptuous  and  the  igno- 

it.     Two  cardinals,  who  had  more  good  taste  in  wine 

in  in  pictures,  observed  him  as  he  was  painting  the 

14* 


18  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

faces  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  and  reproached hiin  foi 
making  their  complexions  too  ruddy.  *  Gentlemen, 
said  Raphael,  not  a  little  nettled  at  the  petulence  o 
their  remark, '  be  not  surprised  at  what  I  have  done 
I  have  only  painted  these  holy  apostles  as  they  app 
in  heaven  ;  the  colour  you  disapprove  is  the  blusf 
shame  on  their  seeing  the  misconduct  of  their  sue 
sors,  the  present  governors  of  the  church.' 

FRANCIS  REGN1ER, 


s 


515.  An  elegant  French  poet  and  translator,  of  tb 
seventeenth  century.  He  was  a  man  of  such  inflexibli 
integrity  of  character,  that  he  was  called  the  abb 
Pertinax.  Upon  a  particular  occasion,  a  person  big! 
in  office,  from  whom  he  had  some  expectations,  pressc 
him  to  stretch  a  point  so  far  as  to  tell  an  untruth.  '  1 
you  do  not  comply  with  my  request,'  said  the  grea 
man,  in  an  angry  tone, '  you  will  rue  the  consequence* 
for  I  am  resolved  to  quarrel  with  you.'  *  Whateve 
the  consequences  may  be,'  replied  Regnier,  coollj 
*  1  had  much  rather  you  should  quarrel  with  me  for  m; 
refusal  of  your  request,  than  that  I  should  quarrel  wit 
myself  for  complying  with  it.' 

516.  In  his  elegant  poems,  gaiety  is  blended  wit1 
moral  reflections.  Among  his  short  pieces  there  is  on1 
which  he  sent  to  a  lady,  with  the  present  of  a  violei 
The  flower  is  supposed  to  address  her  in  the  followin 
strain  of  sweet  and  delicate  compliment : — 


fc  Modeste  en  ma  couleur,  modeste  en  mon  sejowi 
Franche  d>ambilion,je  me  cache  sous  Vherbe; 
J\fais  si  survotre  front  je puis  me  voir  unjour. 
La  plus  humble  desflcurs  sera  la  plus  superbe." 

The  Petition  of  the  Violet. 

"  Beneath  the  friendly  hawthorn's  spray, 

A  native  of  the  lowly  vale, 
I  bashful  shun  the  eye  of  day, 
And  with  my  breath  perfume  the  gate. 


FLOWERS  OP  WIT.  I  / 

Like  you  in  modest  garb  attir'd, 

A  foe  to  show  and  gay  parade, 
Less  seen,  by  all  the  more  admir'dy 

1  flourish  in  the  rural  shade. 

O  place  me  on  thy  snowy  breast ! 

Exalted  to  that  throne  of  love, 
The  humblest  violet,  so  bless'd, 

The  proudest  of  the  flowers  will  prove. 

SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS. 

517.  He  managed  his  pencil  with- such  consummate 
ill,  that  it  had  a  kind  of  magic  effect,  and  attracted 
ound  him  the  beautiful,  the  illustrious,  and  the  opulent, 
bo  could  never  sufficiently  recompense  him  for  the 
egance,  grace,  and  spirit  which  he  infused  into  their 
>rtraits.  The  evanescent  nature  of  his  colours  has 
;en  a  just  subject  of  regret,  and  was  the  subject  like- 
ise  of  an  excellent  pun.  The  late  duchess  of  Devon- 
ire  said,  with  an  allusion  to  this  defect,  and  to  the 
ccess  of  the  artist  in  a  competition  with  some  of  his 
rals,  '  That  Sir  Joshua  came  off  w\ih  flying  colours.' 
In  the  recent  exhibition  in  Pall  Mall,  it  was  gratify- 
l  to  observe,  that  in  some  of  the  pictures  there  was  a 
iiderness  rather  than  a  failure  of  colours;  many  are 
allowed  rather  than  faded,  and  have  lost  none  of  their 
irit. 

It  is  not  easy  to  determine  whether  sir  Joshua  Rey- 
lds  is  more  to  be  admired  as  a  painter  than  a  writer. 
s  thoughts  are  so  just  and  noble,  and  his  style  is  so 
rse  and  luminous,  that  his  Discourses  appear  like  the 
oductions  of  one  who  had  laboured  incessantly  in 
erary  composition.  Yet  so  numerous  and  so  masterly 
his  paintings,  that  they  appear  to  have  constituted 
3  sole  business  of  his  life.  He  has  illustrated  his 
ories  of  excellence  by  his  own  practice  ;  and  well 
ly  the  praise  bestowed  by  Pope  upon  Longinus  be 
plied  to  him  : — 

"  His  own  example  strengthens  all  his  laws, 
And  ia  himself  the  grejxt  eublime  he  draws.'* 


18  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

He  was  as  amiable  as  a  man,  as  he  was  illustrious  a 
an  artist.  His  house  was  the  resort  of  men  of  genius 
and  he  entertained  them  not  more  by  his  elegant  ho.< 
pitality,  than  he  charmed  them  with  the  gentleness  c 
his  temper,  the  urbanity  of  his  manners,  and  his  ric 
and  lively  conversation. 

518.  It  was  one  of  his  favourite  maxims,  '  That 
the  gestures  of  children  are  graceful,  and  that  the  reig 
of  distortion  and  unnatural  attitude  commences  wit 
the  introduction  of  the  dancing-master.' 

The  following  remark  is  worthy  of  so  eminent,  ei 
lightened,  and  liberal  an  artist. 

519.  *  The  only  wages  a  real  genius  thinks  of  in  h 
labour  is  the  praise  of  impartial  judges.' 

520.  To  his  own  pictures  may  be  applied  what  fc 
used  to  say  respecting  those  of  Rubens  :  '  They  resen 
ble  a  well  chosen  nosegay,  in  which,  though  the  colou 
are  splendid  and  vivid,  they  are  never  glaring  or  o\ 
pressive  to  the  eye.' 

521.  He  was  so  deeply  impressed  by  the  transcenci 
ent  genius  of  Michael  Angelo,  that  in  the  last  speeci 
which  he  made  as  president  of  the  Royal  Academy,  h 
thus  concludes  :  '  I  reflect  not  without  vanity,  that  the* 
discourses  bear  testimony  of  this  truly  divine  man 
and  I  should  desire  that  the  last  words  which  I  shou!, 
pronounce  in  this  Academy,  from  this  place,  might  I 
the  name  of  Michael  Angelo,  Michael  Angelo!' 

522.  In  a  party  dining  at  general  Paoli's,  the  sul: 
ject  of  wine-drinking  was  introduced,  which  sir  Joshi 
defended  :  and  Bosweli  at  that  time  drinking  water, 
imitation  of  Dr.  Johnson,  the  latter  exclaimed,  '  Be 
well  is  a  bolder  combatant  than  sir  Joshua  ;  he  argu 
for  wine  without  the  help  of  wine,  but  sir  Joshua  wi 
it.'  Sir  Joshua  replied,  '  But  to  please  one's  compai 
is  a  strong  motive.'  Johnson,  supposing  many  in  til 
company  to   be  elevated,  exclaimed,  '  I   won't  arg 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  19 

jiy  more  with  you,  sir ;  you  are  too  far  gone.'  Sir 
psbua  mildly  answered,  4 1  should  have  thought  so  in- 
ked, sir,  had  I  made  such  a  speech  as  you  have  now 
)ne.  '  On  this  Johnson  drew  himself  up,  blushing,  as 
os well  describes  him,  and  said,  '  Nay  don't  be  angry, 
did  not  mean  to  offend  you.' 

523.  The  bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  as  he  was  sitting  to 

Joshua,  asked  him  how  it  was  that  Garrick  had  not 
?en  able   to  make  any  excellent  players  with  all  his 

tructions.  '  Partly,'  replied  sir  Joshua,  '  because 
ey  all  imitate  him,  and  then  it  becomes  impossible  ; 

this  is  like  a  man  resolving  to  walk  always  behind 
other  ;  and  whilst  this  resolution  lasts,  it  is  impossible 

should  ever  be  on  a  pace  with  him.' 

324.  Hi3  delicacy  of  conduct  was  remarkable.  Mr. 
rke  remarked  to  him  the  peculiar  advantages  which 
tain  situations  gave  to  those  who  chose  to  make  use 
them.  '  For  instance  ;  you  who  are  so  much  in  pri- 
e  with  persons  of  the  highest  rank  and  power,  when 
y  are  sitting  for  their  pictures,  at  moments  also  when 
y  are  at  leisure  and  in  good  humour,  might  obtain 
ours  from  them,  which  would  give  you  a  patronage 
lost  equal  to  that  of  a  prime  minister.'  There  is 
le  truth  in  what  you  say,'  answered  sir  Joshua  ;  '  but 
v  could  I  presume  to  ask  favours  from  those,  to  whom 
came  known  only  by  my  obligations  to  them  ?' 

ONATHAN  RICHARDSON,   Junior. 

25.  Lord  Chesterfield  said,  in  a  debate  in  the 
se  of  lords,  to  the  lord  that  sat  next  him,  '  that  he 
Id  put  the  nation  in  a  way  to  be  never  more  in  fear 
v.he  Pretender's  succeeding  to  the  crown,  viz.  by 
tinghim  elector  of  Hanover  ;  for  that  we  should  be 
never  to  send  for  any  body  over  from  thence  again.' 
hardson  said,  '  That  though  he  thought  this  had  as 
h  wit  as  any  bon-mot  he  had  ever  heard,  yet  he 
eved  lord  Chesterfield  had  more  wit  than  to  say  it.' 


20  FLOWERS    ©F    WIT. 

CARDINAL  RICHELIEU. 

526.  An  officious  informer  came  to  tell  cardin 
Richelieu  of  certain  free  expressions  that  some  persoi| 
had  used  in  speaking  of  him.  '  Why  how  now  !'  i 
the  cardinal  ;  k  do  you  dare  to  come  and  call  me  at 
these  names  to  my  face  under  pretence  of  their  havir 
been  said  by  honest  gentlemen  V  and,  ringing  his  be) 
said  to  the  page  in  waiting,  '  Kick  that  fellow  dow 
stairs.' 

HYACINTHUS  RIGAUD, 

527.  A  celebrated  painter.  Although  he  was 
man  who  had  a  turn  for  gallantry,  he  was  not  very  for 
of  painting  ladies.  'If,'  saicfhe,  '  I  represent  the 
exactly  as  they  are,  they  will  not  think  themselv, 
handsome  enough  ;  and  if  I  flatter  them  excessivel 
then  their  pictures  will  not  be  like  them.' 

528.  A  lady  who  reuged   very  highly,  and  whoi 
likeness  he  had  taken,  complained  that  he  did  not  u 
tfood  colours  for  her  picture,  and  asked  him  where 
bought  them.    c  I  believe,  madam,'  said  he, '  you  ai| 
I  both  deal  at  the  same  shop.* 

SIR  GEORGE  ROOKE. 

529*  When  the  gallant  sir  George  Rooke  was  ma1 
inghis  will,  some  of  his  friends  expressed  their  surpril 
that  he  had  so  little  to  leave.  4  It  is  true,'  said  the  I 
ble  admiral,  *  I  do  not  leave  much  ;  bu1  what  I  do  b 
queath  was  honourably  gained  :  for  it  never  cosi 
sailor  a  tear,  nor  the  nation  a  farthing.' 

ROUSSEAU. 

Letter  from  Frederick  of  Prussia. 

530.  i  Come,  dear  Rousseau  ;  I  offer  you  a  house, 
pension,  and  liberty.* 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  21 

The  Answer  of  Rousseau. 

'  Your  majesty  offers  me  an  asylum,  and  promises 
le  liberty  :  but  you  have  a  sword,  and  you  are  a  king, 
'ou  offer  a  pension  to  me,  who  never  did  you  any 
ood  ;  but  have  you  bestowed  one  on  each  of  the  brave 
len  who  have  lost  either  a  leg  or  an  arm  in  your  ser- 
ice  r 

DR.  ROSE. 

531.  It   was   an  annual  custom  for  Dr.  Johnson *s 

x)kseller  to  invite  his  authors  to  dine  with  him  ;  and 

was  on  such   an  occasion  that  Dr.  Johnson  and  Dr. 

ose  of  Chiswick  met,  when  a  dispute  began  on  the 

re-eminence  of   English  to  Scotch   writers.     In  the 

>urse  of  conversation,   Warburton's  name  was  men- 

Diied  ;  when  Dr.  Rose  observed,  '  What  a  proud  im- 

rious  man  he  was  V  Dr.  Johnson  answered,  *  Sir,  so 

j  was  ;  but  he  possessed  more  learning  than  has  been 

iported  from  Scotland  since  the  days  of  Buchanan/ 

Rose,  after  enumerating  several   Scotch  authors, 

id,  '  What  think  you  of  David  Hume,  sir  V  *  He  was 

deistical  scribbling  fellow,'  was  the  answer.     '  WTell, 

it  so ;  but  what  think  you  of  lord  Bute  ?'  Johnson — 

did  not  know  that  he  ever  wrote  any  thing.'    Rose — 

Jo  !  I  think  he  has  written  one  line,  that  has  outdone 

y  thing  that  Shakspeare  or  Milton  or  any  one  else 

er  wrote.'     Johnson—'  Pray   what  was    that,   sir?' 

*se — 4  It  was  when  he  wrote  an  order  for  your  pension, 

Johnson,  who  was  quite  confounded,  exclaimed, 

Vhy,  that  was  a  very  fine  line  to  be  sure,  sir.' 

SIR  PETER  PAUL  RUBENS. 

This  greatest  painter  of  the  Flemish  school  was 
loured  by  the  friendship  of  many  kings  and  princes  : 
he  was  an  able  statesman  and  an  accomplished 
olar.  He  was  twice  married  ;  his  second  wife  was 
lena  Forment,  a  lady  of  exquisite  beauty,  who  serv- 


22  FLOWERS  OF  WIT- 

cd  him  as  a  model  when  he  painted  the  Virtues  ai 
the  Graces.  He  resided  at  Antwerp,  in  a  superb  mai 
sion,  the  front  of  which  he  adorned  with  paintings 
fresco.  Between  the  court  and  the  garden  of  tf 
house  he  built  a  rotunda,  which  he  enriched  with  st; 
ues,  busts,  antique  vases,  pictures  of  the  best  mastei 
and  ancient  coins  and  medals.  He  received  the  vis; 
of  several  sovereign  princes  ;  and  all  strangers  of  tas 
resorted  to  do  him  homage.  He  admitted  these  vis 
the  more  readily,  as  they  did  not  interfere  with  t 
course  of  his  occupations.  He  worked  with  such  fac 
ity,  that  it  was  his  custom  to  have  a  person  read  to  hii 
while  he  was  painting,  the  most  celebrated  authors,  a: 
particularly  the  poets.  He  was  so  well  convinced 
the  assistance  which  even  the  most  fertile  imaginati 
can  derive  from  poetry,  that  he  made  a  collection 
the  finest  passages  of  the  poets,  and  he  frequently  p 
rused  them  before  he  began  any  of  his  great  wort 
He  was  not  ignorant  that  the  genius  of  Homer  had  ki 
died  the  invention  of  Phidias,  when  he  gave  to  his  J 
piter  that  sublime  character,  which  made  his  stat 
the  admiration  of  antiquity. 

532.  Although  Rubens  was  employed  as  an  ambj, 
sador,  and  had  other  lucrative  appointments,  yet 
acknowledged  that  to  his  art  of  painting  he  was  indel 
ed  for  a!l  his  riches.  An  English  chemist  came  o 
day  to  visit  him,  and  promised  to  share  with  him  t 
treasures  of  his  secret,  if  he  would  be  at  the  expen! 
of  building  a  laboratory.  After  giving  a  patient  he<i 
ing  to  the  whims  of  this  projector,  Rubens  tookh( 
into  his  painting-room.  '  You  come  to  me,'  said  t 
'  much  too  late  :  twenty  years  ago  I  found  the  philos 
pher's  stone  With  this  palette  and  these  pencils.' 

BISHOP  RUNDLE. 

His  candour  and  his  sense  of  duty  made  him  despi 
the  arts  of  dissimulation,  too  prevalent  among  the 
who  frequent  a  court. 


FLOWERS  OF    WIT.  23 

1533.  Queen  Caroline  pressed  him  to  tell  her  of  her 
,ults.  '  If  it  so  please  your  majesty,'  said  he,  'I  will 
ill  you  of  one.  Persons  come  from  all  parts  of  the 
ngdom  to  see  your  majesty  when  you  attend  White- 
11  chapel.  It  is  therefore  to  be  lamented,  that  you 
Ik  so  much  to  the  king  during  divine  service.' — 
Thank  you,  my  lord  bishop,'  said  the  queen  ;  '  now 
II  me  of  another  of  my  faults.  '  That  I  will  do,'  said 
,  '  with  great  pleasure  at  some  future  time  ;  but  first 
rrect  that  I  have  just  mentioned.' 

PUBL1US  RUTILIUS. 

534.  He  was  influenced  by  the  inflexible  integrity  of 
genuine  Roman.  A  friend  made  an  improper  request 
him,  which  he  refused  to  grant.  '  What,'  said  the 
lignant  petitioner,  *  is  the  use  of  your  friendship,  if 
i  do  not  comply  with  my  wishes  ?'  'And  what  would 
the  value  of  my  friendship,'  said  Rutilius,  kif  I  were 
consent  to  that  which  is  dishonourable  ?' 

SADI. 

>35.  This  celebrated  philosopher  and  poet  was  born 
Bchiras,  in  Persia,  and  flourished  in  the  twelfth  cen- 
He  made  use  of  the  most  pleasing  apologues  to 
ivey  religious  and  moral  instruction.  '  1  was  walk- 
i  with  a  triend,'  said  Sadi,  '  in  the  heat  of  the  day, 
i  grove  of  trees  that  formed  an  arch  of  foliage  so 
:k  as  completely  to  exclude  the  rays  of  the  meridian 
;  a  clear  stream  meandered  at  our  feet,  and  enliv- 
d  the  beautiful  verdure  of  the  grassy  carpet,  and  all 
se  charms  of  nature  invited  us  to  repose.  1  saw  a 
ked  man  asleep  in  this  dejightful  place.  '  Great' 
i  1'  said  I,  'does  not  the  consciousness  of  his  crimes 
vent  his  rest  V  My  friend  heard  me,  and  said,  'God 
3s  sleep  to  the  bad,  in  order  that  the  good  may  be 
isturbed.'  ' 

36.  One  day,  when  I  was  in  the  bath,  a  friend 
e  me  a  piece  of  scented  clay.  I  took  it,  and  said  to 
15 


24  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

it,  'Art  thou  musk,  or  ambergris?  for  1  am  charm' 
with  thy  deligtful  perfume.'  It  answered,  '  I  was* 
despicable  piece  of  clay  ;  but  I  was  some  time 
company  with  the  rose,  the  sweet  quality  of  my  coif 
panion  was  communicated  to  me,  otherwise  I  shou 
have  been  only  a  piece  of  earth,  as  I  appear  to    b< 

537.  Conversing  with  a  philosopher,  I  asked  h 
from  what  persons  he  had  derived  his  knowledg 
which  was  peculiarly  accurate  and  solid.  'From  t 
blind,''  he  replied  ;  'because  they  never  lift  up 
feet  without  first  sounding  with  their  slicks  the  grou 
upon  which  they  intend  to  tread.* 

SANTEUIL. 

538.  A  fair  lady  to  whom  the  poet  Santeuil  owed 
sum  of  money,  met  him  one  day,  and  asked  him  why 
did  not  visit  her  as  formerly.  'Is  it,'  said  she,  'becai 
you  are  in  my  debt?  No  madam,  that  is  not  what  preve: 
me;  but  you  are  yourself  the  cause  that  you  are  not  pa 
'How  so?' said  the  lady.  'It  is,'  continued  the  poi 
'because  when  1   see  you,  I  forget  every  thing  else! 

I 

539.  A  certain  clergyman  preached  at  St.  Men, 
and  did  not  please  his  audience.  Santeuil,  who  w 
present,  said,  'This  preacher  did  much  better  1; 
year,'  Some  one  observed,  'How  so  ?  he  did  not  prea 
at  all  last  year.  Tor  that  very  reason,'  said  Santeij 
'he  did  much  better.1 

PETER  PAUL  SARPI. 

510.  Hk  was  honoured  by  the  learned  for  his  gn 
abilities  and  erudition,  and  by  the  good  for  his  integ 
ty.  He  ably  defended  the  cause  of  the  senate  of  V« 
ice  against  the  claims  of  the  Pope  to  infalibiiity,  and, 
a  power  paramount  to  all  other  human  aurthori 
Compelled  by   various   conspiracies  of  the  vindict 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  2a 

pists  to  confine  himself  to  his  convent  in  Venice,  he 
•ote  the  History  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  esteemed  a 
model  of  historical  composition.  Convinced  of  the 
rruption  of  the  court  of  Rome,  and  the  artifices  of  its 
issaries,  he  said,  'There  is  nothing'  more  desirable 
n  to  abolish  the  institution  of  the  Jesuits  :  the 
urch  of  Rome  will  be  involved  in  their  ruin  ;  and  if 
>me  be  ruined,  religion  will  reform  of  itself.' 

541.  In  his  last  illness,  which  was  caused  by  a 
und  from  a  stiletto,  said  to  be  inflicted  by  an  emissa- 

from  the  court  of  Rome,  he  received  a  visit  from 
doge  and   senate  of  Venice.      He   had    merely 

ength  enough  to  raise  himself  up  in  his  bed,  at  their 
ranee  into  his  apartment ;  and,  with  his  hands  clasp- 
together,  and  his  eyes  lifted  towards   heaven,  he 

claimed  with  his  expiring  breath,  alluding  to  his  dear 

tive  city, '  Esto  perpetual 

SIR  HENRY  SAVIL. 

542.  *  Pray,  sir  Henry,'  said  the  earl  of  Essex' 
hat  is  your  opinion  of  poets  V    '  I  think  them,'  said 

Henry,  '  the  best  writers,  next  to  those  that  write 


HE  APPLICATION  OF  SCRIPTURE. 

The  application  of  passages  taken  from  the  holy 
-iptures  to  common  subjects  are  in  general  to  be 
lsured  ;  but  in  some  cases  they  are  so  ingenious, 
■ticularly  when  one  is  retorted  upon  another,  that 
Cannot  help  admiring  them. 

>43.  When  John  duke  of  Anjou  approached  Naples, 
the  head  of  a  great  army,  to  besiege  that  place,  he 
reed  these  words,  taken  from  the  Gospel  of  St.  John, 
)e  inscribed  on  his  standards.  '  Fuit  missus  cui  no  - 
<i  erat  Johannes.''  Alphonso  king  of  Aragon,  who 
"ended  the  city,  answered  him  by  another  passage, 
ich  he  caused  to  be  put  upon  his  standards,  taken 


2t>  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

from  the  same  chapter  :  *  Ipse  venit,  et  non  receperi 

«W/7l.' 

The  following  is  perhaps  one  of  the  neatest  allusi 
retorts  of  this  kind  that  ever  was  made. 

544.  Mr.  Danez  was  sent  by  the  court  of  France 
the  council  of  Trent,  wherein  he  made  a  vehenu 
speech  against  the  court  of  Rome,  and  in  favour  of  tl 
reformation  of  the  church.  As  soon  as  he  had  finis 
ed,  an  Italian  prelate  said,  with  an  expression  of  c< 
tempt,  '  G alius  cantat.1  Mr.  Danez  instantly  exclai 
ed,  '  Utinam  ad  Galli  canlum  Petrus  resipisceret  /' 

SECRECY.' 

545.  Sir  Thomas  Pope,  the  founder  of  Trinity  C 
lege  in  the  university  of  Oxford,  took  this  sentence  I 
the  motto  of  his  arms,  '  Quod  taciturn  velis,  nemi 
dixeris?  and  experience  proves  the  wisdom  of  t 
caution  it  conveys.  He  well  knew  the  weakness) 
mankind,  and  how  eager  many  are  to  disclose  all  th 
are  told,  even  at  the  risk  of  safety  and  the  expense 
honour. 

546.  Demetrius  the  son  of  Antigonus  the  Great,  as 
ed  his  father  on  what  day  he  intended  to  give  the  er 
my  battle.  *  Are  you  afraid,'  said  he,  *  my  son,  tt 
you  will  not  hear  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  V 

547.  In  the  war  of  the  French  revolution,  in  179 
the  king  of  Prussia,  the  duke  of  Brunswick,  and  ger1 
ral  Clairfait,  made  a  combined,  and,  as  they  thought 
most  unexpected  attack  upon  the  republican  army  ;  b> 
to  their  great  surprise,  they  found  their  enemies  wc 
fully  prepared  for  them,  ranged  in  regular  order 
battle,  and  gave  them  such  a  warm  reception 
they  were  obliged  to  retreat  with  considerable  Io 
At  a  council  of  war  held  immediately  afterwards, 
which  the  above  mentioned  persons  were  present,  ge 
eral  Clairfait,  fixing  his  eyes  steadily  on  the  king 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  27 

rus.ia,  said,  '  one  of  us  three  is  a  traitor.'  '  Hpw  so  ?' 
lid  the  king,  looking  confused.  *  I  repeat,''  said  the 
eneral,  '  that  one  of  us  three  is  a  traitor,  or  our  well- 
pncerted  plan  could  not  possibly  have  failed  of  suc- 
bss.'  4  I  can  assure  you,'  said  the  king  of  Prussia, 
Ithat  I  never  whispered  a  word  upon  the  subject  to  any 
Mman  being,  except  to  madame  de  R  *  *  *  *.'  '  What 
t  faithless  counsellor,  or  rather  what  a  perfect  novice  in 
e  ways  of  the  world,  you  must  be  !'  exclaimed  the 
iraged  general  Clairfait.  *  Could  you  possibly  have 
ken  a  more  effectual  method  to  sacrifice  us  to  the 
rench  army,  than  by  blabbing  our  secret  to  a  French- 


oman 


SIR  CHARLES  SEDLEY, 


548.  James  II.  had  created  miss  Sedley  his  mistress, 
e  daughter  of  sir  Charles  Sedley,  countess  of  Dor- 
ester.  Sir  Charles  was,  however,  instrumental  in 
e  revolution  which  placed  William  and  Mary  on  the 
rone.     Being  reproached  for  this  conduct,  as  a  proof 

ingratitude  to  James,  who  had  ennobled  his  daugh- 
r,  he  answered  :  k  He  has  made  my  daughter  a  coun- 
;  and  how  can  I  show  my  gratitude  better  than  by 
aking  his  daughter  a  queen  ?' 

GEORGE  SELWYN. 

549.  Two  men,  of  the  names  of  Fox  and  Burke,  were 
nged  one  morning  at  Tyburn.  George  Selwyn,  who 
s  remarkably  fond  of  attending  the  executions  of 
minals,  was  asked  by  the  two  great  orators  of  the 
ove  names,  of  whom  he  was  not  fond,  whether  he 
d  been  present  at  Tyburn  to  see  Fox  and  Burke 
ned  off.     '  No,'  said  he  *  for  I  don't  think   it  worth 

lile  to  attend  rehearsals.'' 

i550.  George  Selwyn  travelling  in  a  stage  coach  was 
:erupted  by  the  frequent  impertinence  of  a  compan- 
),  who  was  constantly  teasing  him  with  questions,  and 
1.5* 


28  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

asking  him  how  he  did.  *  How  are  you  now,  sir  \ 
said  the  impertinent.  '  Very  well,'  said  George  Se 
wyn  ;  '  and  I  intend  to  continue  so  all  the  rest  of  th 
journey.' 

551.  '  How  does  your  new-purchased  horse  ansxscer'i 
said  the  late  duke  of  Cumberland  to  George  Selwyi 
1  I  really  don't  know,'  replied  George,  '  for  1  neve 
asked  him  a  question.' 

SENECA. 

552.  This  acute  philosopher  soon  discovered  th 
natural  cruelty  of  his  pupil  Nero  ;  but  knowing  th< 
the  stubborness  of  some  dispositions  might  be  softene( 
he  endeavoured  to  correct  what  he  could  not  chang< 
With  this  view  he  wrote  his  treatise  on  Clemency.  Sei 
eca,  apprehensive  that  Nero  was  going  to  sacrifice  sei 
eral  noble  Romans  to  his  suspicions,  had  the  courag 
to  say  to  him,  '  Whatever  be  the  number  of  persor 
you  put  to  death,  know  that  you  cannot  kill  your  su< 
cessor. 

LORD  SHAFTESBURY. 

553.  The  Life  of  this  nobleman,  in  the  Biograph , 
Britannica,  is  a  kind  of  Panegyric,  rather  than  a  hist<| 
ry  of  him.  Fear  of  his  sovereign  did  not  damp  tfcj 
freedom  of  his  wit.  Chales  II.  said  to  him,  '  Shafte| 
bury,  I  believe  thou  art  the  wickedest  man  in  England 
He  bowed,  and  replied,  '  For  a  subject,  sir,  perhaps 
am.' 

SHAKSPEARE. 

Every  additional  anecdote  of  this  incomparab 
dramatist  is  to  be  the  more  highly  valued,  because  t\ 
details  of  his  biographers  are  so  scanty.  John  Aubre; 
who  was  a  diligent  collector  of  the  Memorabilia  ij 
many  eminent  Englishmen,  gives  the  following  sketd 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  29 

Shakspeare,  which  is  the  more  curious,  as  he  lived 
near  his  time. 

554.  Aubrey  says  that '  Shakspeare  was  a  handsome 
ill-shaped  man,  very  good  company,  and  of  a  very 
adie  and  pleasant  smooth  witt.     One  time  as  he  was 

the  tavern  at  Stratford-upon-Avon,  one  Combes,  an 
I  rich  usurer,  was  to  be  buryed,  he  makes  there  this 
temporary  epitaph  : — 

'  Ten  in  the  hundred  the  devil  allows 

But  Combes  will  have  twelve  he  swears  and  vows  ; 

If  any  one  asks  who  lives  in  this  tombe, 

Iloh  !  quoth  the  devil,  'tis  my  John  o  Combe.' 

555.  Shakspeare  was  wont  to  say  that  he  never  blot- 
I  out  a  line  in  his  life  :  said  Ben  Jonson,  I  wish  he 
d  blotted  out  a  thousand.' 

The  following  anecdote  is  taken  from  a  manuscript 
Mr.  Le  Strange,  preserved  in  the  British  museum, 
luctant  as  we  must  be  to  *  lose  one  drop  of  this  im- 
>rtal  man,'  we  confess  that  the  joke  which  is  intend- 
to  give  a  point  to  the  anecdote,  is  infinitely  beJow 
5  genius,  even   in  its  most  idle   and  careless  play, 
ir  great  inducement  to  insert  it  is,  that  probably  it 
ver  before  appeared  in  a  collection  of  this  kind  ;  and 
proves  that   Skakspeare  and  Ben  Jonson  were  once 
terms  of  intimacy,  however  cold  and  jealous  the  lat- 
became  in  a  subsequent  period  of  life. 

^56.  *  Shakspeare  was  god-father  to  one  of  Ben 
nsons  children  ;  and  after  the  christening  being  in 
deepe  study,  Jonson  came  to  cheer  him  up,  and 
t'd  him  why  he  was  so  melancholy.  '  No  faith, 
n,'  says  he,  '  not  I  ;  but  I  have  beene  considering  a 
?at  while,  what  should  be  the  fittest  gift  for  me  to 
tow  upon  my  god-child,  and  I  have  resolved  at  last.' 
pr'y  thee  what  V  says  he.  '  I'  faith  Ben,  I'll  give 
n  a  dozen  good  latten  spoons,  and  thou  shalt  translate 
;m.' 


30  i-'LOWERS    OF    Wll. 

DR.  SHARP. 

Dr.  Sharp,  of  Hart  Hall,  Oxford,  bad  a  trick  of  r 
peating,  in  almost  every  sentence  he  spoke,  the  won 
I  say.  To  his  friend,  who  ridiculed  hitn  for  the  pra< 
tice,  he  made  the  following  speech, 

*  I  say  they  say  you  say  I  say  I  say  ; 

I  say,  what  if  I  do  say  I  say  ? 

I  say,  what  business  have  you  to  say  I  say?' 

DR.  THOMAS  SHAW. 

558.  The  improvement  a  person  derives  from  fc 
travels,  evinces  the  great  inferiority  of  common  preji 
dices.  Dr.  Thomas  Shaw,  an  Oxford  divine,  was  i 
eminent  traveller.  On  his  return  to  England  from  tl 
East,  he  happened  to  be  in  a  company  where  the  conve 
sation  turned  on  the  luxuries  of  the  table.  A  gentl 
man  remarked,  that  he  thought  English  dishes  superi 
to  those  of  any  other  country.  '  You  show  your  coi 
tracted  notions  of  good  living,'  said  Dr.  Shaw, '  b 
this  remark  :  had  you  fortunately  been  with  me  in  tl 
kingdom  of  Morocco,  you  would  have  improved  yoi! 
taste  ;  for  there  1  feasted  upon  bear  soup,  stewn 
serpents,  and  lion  cutlets  cabobo'd.^ 

DR.  SHERIDAN. 

559.  There  was  a  mutual  attachment  between  tfj 
doctor  and  miss  Mac  Faden.  He  called  one  morni^ 
to  take  leave  of  her  for  a  few  days,  before  he  set  oip 
on  a  journey.  She  asked  him,  in  a  tone  of  voice  th. 
well  expressed  more  than  the  words  that  accompanic 
it,  how  long  he  intended  to  stay  away  :  to  which  1; 
immediately  answered, 

*  You  ask  how  long  I'll  stay  from  thee, 

Suppress  those  rising  fears, 
If  you  should  reckon  time  like,  me, 

perhaps  ten  thousand  years,' 


FLOWERS   OF    WIT.  31 

MR.  SHERIDAN. 

660.  When  Mr.  Pitt  was  very  young  in  office,  seve- 
(angry  altercations  took  place  between  him  and  Mr. 
leridan  in  the  debates  in  the  house  of  commons.  He 
ce  said  to  Sheridan, '  You  had  better  withdraw  your 
ention  from  politics,  and  direct  it  exclusively  to  the 
ge,  where  the  display  of  your  abilities  cannot  fail  to 
luse  the  public'  Sheridan  was  piqued  at  this  pro- 
sional  allusion  ;  and  instantly  replied,  '  If  I  do  turn 
f  attention  to  the  stage,  I  cannot  be  at  a  loss  for  a  di- 
rting  character  ;  I  will  certainly,  in  compliment  to 
u,  revive  the  part  of  the  angry  boy  in  the  old  play  of 
i  Alchemist. 

561.  When  the  School  for  Scandal  was  first  acted, 
r.  Cumberland  was  asked   to  give  his  opinion  of  it. 

am  astonished,'  said  he,  '  that  the  town  can  be  so 
mpletely  mistaken  as  to  think  there  is  either  wit  or 
mour  in  this  comedy  :  I  went  to  see  it,  and  it  made 
s  as  grave  as  a  judge.'  This  singular  opinion  was 
)orted  to  Sheridan.  4  Mr.  Cumberland,'  said  he,  *  is 
y  ungrateful  ;  for  when  I  went  to  see  his  tragedy  of 
Carmelite,  I  did  nothing  but  laugh  from  the  begin- 
ig  to  the  end.' 

MRS.  SIDDONS. 

562.  At  the  tirm:  when  Mrs.  Siddons  had  just  reach- 
her  high  theatrical  fame,  and  had  acted  some  of  her 
Ticipal  characters  to  the  admiration  of  all  who  he- 
ld her,  a  formal  assembly  of  learned  ladies,  consist- 

of  Mrs.  Montagu,  Mrs.  Carter,  Miss  Hannah  More, 
1  sundry  other  members  of  the  6a s  bleu  met,  and  pre- 
led'upon  Mrs.  Siddons  to  be  of  the  party.  Their 
ect  was  to  examine  her,  and  to  get  from  her  the  se- 
t  how  she  could  act  with  such  wonderful  effect. 
s.  Montagu  was  deputed  to  be  the  prolocutress  of 
i  female  convocation  '  Pray,  madam,' said  she  to 
s.  Siddons,  addressing  her  in  the  most  formal  man- 


32  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

ner, '  give  me  leave  to  interrogate  you,  and  to  requ< 
you  will  tell  us  without  duplicity  or  mental  reservatu 
upon  what  principle  you  conduct  your  dramatic  ( 
meanour.  Is  your  mode  of  acting,  by  which  you  ( 
tain  so  much  celebrity,  the  result  of  certain  studi 
principles  of  art  ?  Have  you  investigated,  with  profou 
research,  the  rules  of  elocution  and  gesture,  as  h 
down  by  the  antients  and  moderns,  and  reduced  th« 
to  practice  ?  or  do  you  suffer  nature  to  predomina 
and  only  speak  the  untutored  language  of  the  passion. 
'  Ladies,'  said  the  modern  Thalia,  with  great  diffidero 
but  without  hesitation,  'I  do  not  know  how. to  answ 
so  learned  a  speech.  All  I  know  of  the  matter,  a 
all  I  can  tell  you  is,  that  1  always  act  as  well  as  I  ca 

SIR  HENRY  SIDNEY. 

563.  He  was  the  virtuous  and  brave  father  of  a  s 
more  renowned  son,  sir  Philip  Sydney-  To  a  friend 
a  very  fretful  temper  and  very  querulous,  he  said, 
the  genuine  spirit  of  an  antient  philosopher  :  '  Tak< 
from  "me,  A  weak  man  complains  of  others,  an  unfor 
nate  man  of  himself,  but  a  wise  man  complains  neitl 
of  others  nor  of  himself.' 

SIGISMUND,  EMPEROR  OF  GERMANS 

564.  Being  one  day  asked  what  was  the  surest  me 
od  of  remaining  happy  in  this  world,  replied, '  Only 
fn  health,  what  you  have  promised  to  do  when  y; 
were  sick.' 

SIR  SIDNEY  SMITH. 

565.  An  officer  maintained,  in  the  presence  of  Sir 
Smith,  that  he  could  not  assault  a  particular  post,  I 
cause  it  was  unattackable.  w  Sir,'  said  the  gallant  chi 
*  that  word  is  not  English.* 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  33 

SOCRATES. 

566.  *  This  wise  Athenian  cross M  a  glittering  fair  ; 
imov'd  by  tongues  and  sights  he  walk'd  the  place, 
irough  tape,  tags,  tinsel,  gimp,  perfume  and  lace  ; 
len  bends  from  Mars's  Hill  his  awful  eyes, 

id  *  What  a  world  1  never  want !'  he  cries.' 

Parnell. 

567.  Socrates  being  asked  what  was  the  best  mode 
.gaining  a  high  reputation,  said,  *  To  be  what  you  ap- 
tar  to  be.' 

368.  Archelaus,  a  powerful  monarch,  offered  Socra- 
a  handsome  pension,  if  he  would  come  and  reside  at 

court.  The  answer  of  the  philosopher  was  as  in- 
Dendent  as  laconic  :  '  At  Athens  meal  is  two  pence 

measure,  and  water  may  be  had  for  nothing.' 

SOLYMAN  THE  MAGNIFICENT. 

69.  When  Solyman  the  Magnificent  marched  to  the 
quest  of  Belgrade,  in  1521,  a  woman  of  the  com- 
n  sort  approached  him,  and  complained  bitterly, 
t  while  she  was  sleeping,  soldiers  had  carried  off  her 
le,  and  this  was  all  the  property  she  had.  '  You 
5t  have  been  buried  in  very  deep  sleep,'  said  the 
peror,  '  not  to  hear  the  noise  the  robbers  made.' 
cb,'  sire,  was  indeed  the  case,'  replied  the  woman  : 
•  I  slept  in  full  confidence  that  your  highness  was 
ching  over  the  public  safety.'  As  Solyman  was 
ghted  with  this  answer,  it  is  almost  needless  to  add, 
he  ordered  full  amends  to  be  made  for  her  loss. 

THE  SPARTANS. 


70.  A  dancer  said  to  a  Spartan,  '  You  cannot 
d  so  long  on  one  leg  as  I  can.'  '  Perhaps  not,'  said 
Spartan  :  '  but  any  goose  can/ 


34  FLOWERS    OP    WIT. 

571.  Some  Spartans  as  they  travelled  met  a  pers 
who  told  them  they  were  fortunate,  for  a  gang  of  I 
bers  had  just  left  that  place.  '  No,'  answered  one 
them,  '  the  robbers  were  fortunate.' 

572.  A  beggar  asking  alms  of  a  Spartan,  he  answ 
ed, '  If  I  grant  what  you  crave,  I  shall  make  you  a  m 
confirmed  beggar  ;  he  who  first  gave  you  money,  tauj, 
you  laziness.' 

573.  A  traveller,  observing  the  respect  paid  to  j 
in  Sparta,  said,  '  Here  alone  it  is  a  pleasure  to  gi| 
old. 

574.  A  Spartan  mother,  after  the  first  news  of  a  I: 
tie,  went  out  of  the  city  to  obtain  more  intelligen 
A  messenger  came  and  informed  her,  that  both  I 
sons  were  among  the  slain.  '  Wretch  !'  said  she, 
did  not  inquire  the  fate  of  my  sons,  but  that  of  i 
country.'  When  told  that  Sparta  was  victorious, 
exclaimed,  '  Then  1  rejoice  in  the  death  of  my  sons) 

575.  A  Spartan  mother  presented  a  shield  to  her  | 
going  to  battle,  with  these  words,  '  Son,  either  this, 
upon  this.' 

576.  Another  to  her  son,  complaining  that  his  sw<! 
was  too  short,  said,  '  Add  a  step  to  it.' 

577.  Demaratus,  king  of. Sparta,  being  asked  whe 
er  he  was  silent  through  folly  or  wisdom,  replied, 
fool  cannot  be  silent.' 

578.  Xerxes,  at  the  head  of  half  a  million  of  m< 
wrote  thus  to  Leonidas, '  Surrender  your  arms.'  Lee 
idas,  who  commanded  only  three  hundred  Sparta 
returned  this  answer,  '  Come  and  take  them.' 

579.  Just  before  the  battle  of  Thermopylae,  a  Sp 
tan  soldier  came  and  reported,  that  the  Persians  w< 
so  numerous,  that  their  clouds  of  arrows  darkened  t 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  35 

jji.  *  So  much  the  better,'  said  Leonidas,  '  for  we 
jail  fight  in  the  shade.' 

LORD  STANLEY. 

580.  The  antipathy  which  Dr.  Johnson  bore  to 
;otland  was  not  singular  or  unprecedented.  Lord 
anley  came  plainly  dressed  to  request  a  private  au- 
ence  of  king  James  I.  A  gaily  dressed  Scotchman 
fused  him  admittance  into  the  king's  closet.  The 
ng  hearing  an  altercation  between  the  two,  came  out, 
,d  inquired  the  cause.  *  My  liege,'  said  lord  Stanley, 
his  gay  countryman  of  yours  has  refused  me  admit- 
nce  to  your  presence.'  'Cousin,'  said  the  king,  'how 
all  I  punish  him  ?  shall  I  send  him  to  the  Tower?' 
)  no,  my  liege,'  replied  lord  Stanley,  *  inflict  a  sever 

punishment ;  send  him  back  to  Scotland.' 

581.  Louis  XIV.,  as  he  was  reviewing  his  horse 
enadier  guards,  said  to  lord  Stanley,  who  was  by  his 
le,  '  My  lord,  you  see  before  you  the  most  courageous 
Idiers  in  my  array  ;  I  assure  you  there  is  not  one 
long  them  who  is  not  covered  with  wounds.'  'If  they 
so  courageous,' replied  lord  Stanley,  'what  must  your 
yesty  think  of  the  courage  of  those  who  gave  them 

se  wounds  ?' 

LAWRENCE  STERNE. 

382.  Some  person  remarked  to  him,  that  apothecaries 
re  the  same  relation  to  physicians,  that  attorneys  do 
barristers.  '  So  they  do,'  said  Sterne  ;  '  but  apothe- 
ries  and  attorneys  are  not  alike,  for  the  latter  do  not 
al  in  scrvples.' 

EDMUND  STONE. 

)8o.  He  was  a  self  taught  mathematician,  a  native  of 
)tland,  and  son  to  a  gardener  in  the  service  of  the 
if,  of  Argyle,  1720.  He  gave  the  duke,  his  patron, 
16 


36  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

a  curious  account  of  the  progressive  advance  of  his  si 
dies  ;  and  his  example  proves  what  elevated  and  d 
tant  objects  the  regular  course  of  determined  diliger 
can  reach.  '  I  was  first,'  said  he,  '  taught  to  read, 
saw  the  duke's  architect  use  rule  and  compasses,  a 
make  calculations  ;  the  science  called  arithmetic  v 
explained  to  me  ;  so  I  bought  a  book  of  arithmetic,  a 
learned  it.  I  then  learned  geometry.  I  was  told  th« 
were  good  books  upon  the  subject  in  French  and  Lat 
so  I  bought  dictionaries,  and  learned  French  and  Lat 
The  book  you  see  me  reading  is  the  Principia  of" 
great  Newton.  It  seems  to  me,  that  if  a  man  01 
knows  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  he  may  acquire  z 
kind  of  learning.' 

SIR  ROBERT  SUTTON. 

584.  There  is  a  species  of  retort  so  far  superioi 
the  common  run  of  answers,  that  it  may  be  very  propi 
ly  styled  sublime.  Of  this  kind  is  the  following  :  Fr 
eric  the  Great  king  of  Prussia,  asked  sir  Robert  Sutt! 
at  a  review  of  his  tall  grenadiers,  '  If  he  thought 
equal  number  of  Englishmen  could  beat  them  V  '  Si 
replied  sir  Kobert,  '  I  do  not  venture  to  assert  th 
but  I  believe  half  the  number  would  try.' 

DEAN  SWIFT. 

585.  The  dean  was  both  fond  of  conversing  with 
Irish  common  people  and  of  amusing  himself  with  t! 
credulity.     One  day  he  observed  a  great  rabble  ass< 
bled  before  the  deanery  door,  and  was   told  they 
met  to  see  an  eclipse.     He  sent  for  the  beadle  of 
town,  and  told  him  what  to  do.    Away  ran  Davy  foi 
bell  ;  and.  ^fter  Hnging  it  some    time.  'O  yes,  O 
all  manner  of  persons  concerned,  take  notice  that  it  is 
Ck.au     pie      .      to  put  off  the  eclipse  till  this  hour 
morrow.     So  God  save  the  king  and  the  dean  !' 
mob,  except  a  few,  immediately  dispersed  ;   bu'  tl 
tow  swore  they  would  not  lose  another  afternoon, 


FLOWERS    OF     WIT. 


37 


hat  the   dean,  who  was  a   very  comical   man,  might 
ake  it  into  his  head   to  put  off  the  eclipse  again,  and 

ko  make  fools  of  them  a  second  time. 

586.  Dean  Swift  travelling:  in  Ireland  called  at  the 
ouse  of  a  friend.  The  lady  of  the  mansion  rejoiced  to 
ave  so  distinguished  a  guesi  ran  up  to  him,  and  teas- 
i  him  with  a  number  of  questions,  as  to  what  he  would 
ke  to  have  for  dinner.  'Will  you  have  an  app!e-pie,sir? 
ill  you  have  a  goose-berrypie  sir?  will  you  have  a  cher- 

pie,  sir?  wfll  you  have  a  pigeon-pie,  'sir  ?'  'Any  pie, 
adam,'  replied  the  fatigued  dean,  'but  a  magpieS 

537.   He  was  asked  at   court,     what   he   thought  of 
ambassador  and   his  train,  who  were  all  embroidery 
d  lace,  full  of  bows,  cringes,    and  gestures.     He  said 
was  Solomon's  importation,  'gold   and  apes.' 

588.  He  said,  that  'those  vvho  are  always  observing 
lers,  are  like  those  vvho  are  always  abroad,  at  oth- 
men's  houses,  reforming  every  thing  there,  while 
sir  own  run  to  rum.'' 

589.  Voltaire  related  to  Mr.  Sherlock  an  anecdote 
Swift.  Lady  Cartere',  wife  of  the  lord  lieutenant, 
d  to  Swift,  'The  air  of  Ireland  is  very  excellent  and 
althy  '     'For     God     sake,     madam,'     said     Swift, 

ing  down  on  his  knees   before   her,  'don't  say  so  in 
jland  ;  for  if  you  do,  they  will  certainly  tax  it.' 


90.  Swift  having  dined  with,    a    rich    miser,   pro- 
need  the  following  grace  after  dinner  : 

'Thanks  for  this  miraclf,  it  is  no  less 
Than  finding  manna  in  the   w>Hernfjss. 
In  midst  of  famine  we  have  found  relief, 
Anrl°<;enthe      <n<]      ofaclvneof    beef! 
Chimneys  have  smok'd,  that  never  smok'd  before ; 
And  we  have  Hin'd,  where  we  shall  dine  no  more.' 

91.  He  said  that  a  man  of  wit  is  not   incapable  of 
ness,  but   above  it.    A  sprightly   generous  horse 


33  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 


ass,  but  he  is 


able  to  carry  a  pack-saddle  as  well  as  an  ass, 
too  good  to  be  put  to  the  drudgery. 

Sterne  is  said  to  have  expressed  the  same  excellent 
sentiment  to  the  duke  of  Newcastle  ;  but  its  originali- 
ty rests  with  Swift. 

592.  There  scarcely  ever  was  a  finer  compliment 
paid  to  a  lady  than  that  which  was  addressed  by  Deal 
Swift  to  a  wife  who  was  always  praising  her  husband  : 

4  You  always  are  making  a  god  of  your  spoftise, 
Rut  that  neither  reason  nor  conscience  allows  : 
Perhaps  you  may  think 'tis  in  gratitude  due, 
And  you  adore  him,  because  he  adores  you. 
Your  argument's  weak,  and  so  you  will  find, 
For,  you,  by  this  rule,  must  adore  all  mankind.' 

593.  Swift,  in  his  lunacy,  had  lucid  intervals.  In  on 
of  these,  he  was  taken  to  Dublin  Park  for  the  air.  H 
there  remarked  a  new  building,  and  he  was  told  it  wa 
a  magazine  for  arms  and  powder  for  the  security  of  th 
city.  '  O,'  said  the  dean,  '  let  me  take  an  item  of  this 
he  then  wrote  the  following  lines  : 


i 


*  Behold  a  proof  of  Irish  sense, 

Here  Irish  wit  is  seen  ; 

When  nothing's  left  that's  worth  defence, 

We   build  a  magazine  V 

And  then  he  put  up  his  pocket-book,  laughing  hea 
lily  at  the  conceit,  and  finishing  it  with  these  words 
'After   the  steed  is  stolen,  shut  the  stable  door.' 

This  was  the  last  effort  of  his  expiring  wit. 

MARSHAL  TALLARD. 

594.  When  he  was  detained  a  prisoner  in  Englan 
he  passed  some  time  with  William  Cavendish  duke 
Devonshire.     His  compliment  at  his  departure  was  e  « 
pressed  in  these  terms  to  the  duke  :     *  My  lord,  wh 
I  come  hereafter  to  compute  the  time  of  my  captivii  w 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  39 

in  England,  I  shall  leave  out  the  days  of*  my  enjoyment 
atChatsworth.' 

TASSO. 

595.  He  was  honoured  by  the  especial  regard  of 
iCharles  IX.,  king  of  France,  when  he  attended  cardi- 
nal Luigi,  who  went  to  France  in  quality  of  legate  from 
l his  holiness  the  pope.     In  a  conversation  held  before 

the  king  by  several  learned  men,  it  was  disputed  what 
condition  of  life  was  the  most  unfortunate.  '  In  my  opin- 
ion,' said,  Tasso,  '  the  most  unfortunate  condition 
[is  that  of  an  impatient  old  man,  depressed  by  poverty  ; 
"or  the  state  of  that  person  is  doubtless  very  deplora- 
ble, who  has  neither  the  gifts  of  fortune  to  preserve 
him  from  want,  nor  the  principles  of  philosophy  to  sup- 
port himself  under  affliction.' 

The  character  of  Tasso  has  obtained  the  highest 
>raise.  It  is  said  of  him,  that  '  there  never  was  a 
molar  more  humble,  a  wit  more  devout,  or  a  man  more 
"miable  in  society.' 

596.  Some  person  reported  to  him,  that  a  malicious 
nemy  spoke  ill  of  him  to  all  the  world.  '  Let  him 
ersevere,'  said  Tasso  ;  '  his  rancour  gives  me  no  pain, 
fow  much  better  is  it  that  he  should  speak  ill  of  me 

all  the  world,  than  that  all  the  world  should  speak 
I  of  me  to  him  !' 

597.  Tasso  being  told,  that  he  had  a  fair  opportu- 
ty  of  taking  advantage  of  a  very  bitter  enemy  ;  '  I 
ish  not,'  said  he,  *  to  plunder  him  ;  but  there  are 
ings  I  wish  to  take  away  from  him  ;  not  his  honour, 
3  wealth,  or  his  life — but  his  ill  will.' 
Boileau   has  been  too  severe    in  his  censures  of  the 

rusalemme  Liberata.  His  delicate  taste,  it  seems, 
is  offended  by  the  clinquant  of  Tasso.  Now  it  is  very 
narkable  that  Boileau  himself,  in  one  of  the  few  oi -ig- 
1  poems  he  ever  wrote,  his  Ode  sur  la  Prise  de  Na- 
;r,  has  written  with  hr  more  affectation,  and  deco- 
ed  his  poem  with  the  same  kind  of  tinsel,  which  he  so 
ch  dislikes  in  Tasso. 

16* 


40  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

598.  It  seems  necessary  for  a  man  of  genius  to  have 
some  predecessor  to  show  him  the  road  to  excellence  : 
Tasso  said  of  himself— '  If  1  had  not  read  the  Pastor 
Fido  of  Guarini,  I  had  not  excelled  it.' 

THALES, 

599.  One  of  the  wise  men  of  Greece.  A  sophist 
wishing  to  puzzle  him  with  difficult  questions,  the  sage 
of  Miletus  replied  to  them  all  without  the  least  hesita- 
tion, and  with  the  utmost  precision. 

What  is  the  oldest  of  all  things  ?  God,  because  h< 
has  always  existed. 

What  is  the  most  beautiful  ?  The  world,  because  i 
is  the  work  of  God. 

What  is  the  greatest  of  all  things  ?  Space,  because  i 
contains  all  that  has  been  created. 

What,  is  the  most  constant  of  all  things  ?  Hope,  be 
cause  it  still  remains  with  man,  after  he  has  lost  ever 
thing  else. 

What  is  the  best  of  all  things  ?  Virtue,  because  witlj 
out  it  there  is  nothing  good. 

What  is  the  quickest  of  all  things  ?  Thought,  bi 
cause  in  less  than  a  moment  it  can  fly  to  the  end  oft! 
universe. 

What  is  the  strongest  ?  Necessity,  which  makes  mi 
face  all  the  dangers  of  life. 

What  is  the  easiest  ?  To  give  advice. 

What  is  the  most  difficult?  To  know  yourself. 

Wrhat  is  the  wisest  ?  Time,  for  it  discovers  all  thing 

THE  RIVER  THAMES. 

GOO  Fuller  justly  says,  in  his  'Worthies  of  Englan 
that  London  owes  it  grandeur  and  opulence,  i 
der  God's  providence,  to  the  well-conditioned  r'v 
Thames,  which  employs  its  greatness  in  goodness 
to  be  beneficial  to  commerce  by  the  reciprocation 
the  tides.  Hence  it  was  that  when  king  James  I., 
fended  with  the  City,  threatened  to  remove  his  cour 
another  place,  the  Lord  mayor  boldly  enough  told  hi! 


FLOWER*    05'    VVIT.  41 

— '  Your  majesty  may  remove  the  court  at  your  pleas- 
tire,  but  you  cannot  remove  the  river  Thames.' 

THEMISTOCLES. 

601.  Antjent  Greece  can  boast  of  no  hero  more  il- 
ustrious.  The  victory  he  obtained  in  the  Bay  of  Sal- 
imis  over  the  Persian  fleet,  by  which  he  prolonged  the 
ndependence  of  his  country,  immortalized  his  name. 
\s  a  general,  his  talents  were  consummate  :  as  a  judge, 
le  was  inflexibly  impartial.  Simonides  the  poet  request- 
id  him    to   relax  the  rigour  of  justice   in  his  favour. 

If  you  would  think  that  poet  bad,'  said  Themistocles, 
who  transgresses  the  rules  of  metre,  why  should  you 
lot  reckon  that  judge  infamous  who  holds  the  request 
f  any  one  more  sacred  than  the  laws  of  his  country  ?' 

602.  A  father  consulted  Themistocles  to  which  of  two 
overs  he  should  many  his  daughter  ;  whether  to  a 
)ooi  man  of  merit,  or  to  a  rich  man  of  si  bad  character. 

Were  I  in  your  place,'  said  Themistocles,  '  I  should 
>refer  a  man  without  money,  to  money  without  a  man.' 

603.  If  we  could  be  admitted  behind  the  scenes  of 
he  political  drama,  and  proceed  from  beholding  the 
niblic  affairs  of  empires  to  inspect  their  secret  origin, 

e  should  be  astonished  at  the  small  springs  that  give 
he  first  impulse  to  movements  of  the  greatest  import- 
nce. 

Themistocles  had  a  son  who  was  the  darling  of  his 

lother.     '  This    little  fellow,'  said  Themistocles,  '  is 

he  sovereign  of  all  Greece.' k  How  so  ?*.  '  said  a  friend. 

Why,  he  governs  his  mother,  his  mother  governs  me, 

govern  the  Athenians,  and  the   Athenians  govern  all 

lireece.' 

604.  As  Themistocles  was  once  marching  amid  the 
poils  of  his  enemies,  he  said  to  one  of  his  soldiers, 
collect  those  spoils  for  thyself,  for  thou  art  not  The- 
listocles.' 


42  FLOWERS  OP  WIT, 

THEODOSIUS  THE  GREAT. 

605.  He  was  born  in  Galicia  in  Spain,  and  flourish- 
ed at  the  end  of  the  fourth  century.  He  appointee 
judges  to  try  persons  suspected  of  having  formed  a  con 
spiracy  against  him.  He  advised  them  to  carry  on  the 
trials  with  equity  and  moderation.  '  Our  first  care, 
said  one  of  the  judges,  '  is  to  guard  the  safety  of  oui 
sovereign.'  '  Rather  guard  his  reputation'  said  The 
odosius  :  'a  sovereign  ought  to  measure  his  life,  no 
by  length  of  days,  but  the  continuance  of  his  glory.' 

LORD  CHANCELLOR  THURLOW. 

He  had  a  strongly  marked  countenance  ;  his  fea 
tures  were  large,  his  eye-brows  were  shaggy  and  prom 
inent,  and  his  eyes  were  expressive  of  uncommon  intel 
lect  and  ferocious  dignity.  He  was  what  Dr.  Johnson 
calls  '  truculent  of  aspect.' 

I 

606.  A  fine  buffalo  was  given  to  him,  and  it  was  kepi 
in  an  inclosure  at  his  seat  at  Dulwich.  This  aniraa 
was  so  fierce,  that  even  his  keeper  was  very  muc 
afraid  of  him.  One  day  lord  Thurlow  expressed  hi) 
intention  to  approach  him.  The  keeper  warned  hit 
against  risking  such  a  danger  ;  but  the  chancellor  cai 
rying  a  stout  stick  in  his  hand,  walked  slowly  up  t 
the  animal,  and  looked  at  him  with  an  aspect  so  grirj 
and  terrific,  that  the  buffalo  turned  aside  and  retired! 
*  My  lord,'  exclaimed  the  trembling  keeper, '  I  am  asi 
tonished  at  your  boldness.'  '  Your  astonishment,'  sai 
his  master,  '  only  shows  your  ignorance  ;  do  you  nci 
know,  that  man  is  ordained  to  be  the  lord  of  the  cref! 
tion  ;  and  it  is  only  when  he  is  poltroon  enough,  lik 
you,  to  distrust  bis  own  powers,  that  he  dares  not  fad 
any  beast  whatever  ?' 

607.  A  person  came  running  almost  breathless  1 
chancellor  Thurlow.  '  My  lord,'  said  he,  *  I  bring  yi 
tidings  of  calamity  to  the  nation,  and  I  do  not  kno 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 


43 


ow  far  the  direful  effects  of  it  may  spread  to  endanger 
ie  church  and  state.1 — 'What  is  the  matter,  man  ?'said 
ie  impatient  chancellor.  'My  lord.' continued  this 
iaenifier  of  political  mischief,'  a  rebellion  has  broken 
jt.'— '  Where,  where  V  «  In  the  Isle  of  Man.—'  A  reb- 
ellion in  the  Isle  of  Man,'  repeated  the  vociferous  and 
ringed  chancellor  ;  '  a  tempest  in  a  tea-pot  !' 
There  is  a  similar  idea  in  Athenaeus. 


TIBERIUS. 

608.  Ambassadors  came  from  Ilium  to  offer  their 
mdolence  to  the  emperor  Tiberius,  on  the  death  of 
s  son  Drusus,  a  considerable  time  after  that  event. 
n  return,'  said  Tiberius,  '  for  these  very  prompt  ex- 
essions  of  your  sympathy,  I  assure  you  of  my  very 
ep  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  your  countryman  Hector." 

609.  Gratified  as  he  was  with  the  incense  of  flattery* 
was  sometimes  compelled  to  listen  to  the  voice  ot 

ith.  He  wrote  the  history  of  his  own  life,  and  paid 
eat  attention  to  the  style.  He  consulted  Ateius  Cap- 
a  great  grammarian,  respecting  a  word  which  he 
spected  not  to  be  pure.  Ateius,  who  was  a  gross  flat- 
er,  said,  that  although  the  word  was  not  sanctioned 
antient  usage,  yet  the  authority  of  the  emperor 
mped  it  genuine.  Another  grammarian  was  more 
cere  :  '  Cresar,'  said  he,  '  you  can  confer  the 
edom  of  Home  upon  men,  but  you  cannot  give  it  to 
rds.' 


fHE  MARQUIS  DE  TIERCEVILLE., 

10.  A  French  gentleman,  presenting  in  a  jocose 
nner  this  young  marquis  to  a  lady  ot  his  acquaint- 
3.  '  Madam,'  said  be,  "  this  is  the  marquis  de  Tier- 
ille,  and  he  is  not  so  great  a  fool  as  he  looks  to  be.' 
adam,'  answered  the  young  marquis,  '  this  is  the 
ct  difference  between  This  gentleman  and  me,' 


44  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

ARCHBISHOP  TILLOTSON. 

611.  Archdeacon  Reeves  observed  in  the  library 
of  archbishop  Tillotson,  a  shelf  of  books  of  various 
forms  and  sizes,  all  richly  bound  and  finely  gilt  and 
lettered.  He  asked  his  grace,  why  they  were  so  dis- 
tinguished. '  These,'  said  the  archbishop,  '  are  my 
own  personal  friends  ;  and  what  is  more,  I  have  my- 
self made  them  such,  for  they  meant  to  be  my  enemies. 
I  have  used  those  hints  their  malice  suggested,  and 
from*  them  I  have  received  more  profit  than  from  the 
advice  of  my  best  friends.  It  is  for  this  reason,  as  you 
may  see,  I  have  rewarded  them  accordingly.' 

A  PICTURE  OF  THE  TIMES. 

6'12.  Sitting  once  in  my  library,'  said  Mr.    Harris, 
'  with  a  friend,  a  worthy  but  melancholy  man,   I  read 
him  out  of  a  book,  the  following  passage  :  '  In  our  time 
it  may  be  spoken  more  truly  than  of  old,  that  virtue  is 
gone,  the  church  is  under  foot,  the  clergy  is  in  error, 
the  devil  reigneth.'     My  friend  interrupted  me  with  a 
sigh,  and  said, '  Alas,  how  true,  how  just  a  picture  o! 
the  times  !'  I   asked  him  of  what   times.     '  Of  what 
times  ?'  replied  he  with  emotion  ;  '  can  you  suppose 
any  other  but  the  present — were  any  before  ever  so|ls 
corrupt,  so  bad?'  '  Forgive  me,'  said  1,  '  for  stopping! 
you;    the  times  I  am  reading  of  are  older  than  you  imPl 
agine  ;  the  sentiment  was  delivered   about  four   hunmt 
dred  years  a%o ;  its  author  sir  John  Mandeville,  who*dile  r 
ed  in  1371." 

JOHN  HORNE  TOOKE. 

No  man  ever  displayed  more  subtlety  or  coolness 
judgment  in  the  discussion  of  arguments  that  arose 
the  course  of  conversation.     But  when  he  obtained 
seat  in  the  house  of  commons,  he  seemed  out  of  his  el 
ment,  and  spoke   more  like  a  casuistical  attorney  tha 
an  eloquent  senator.    What  Tacitus  said  of  Galba,  ma; 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  45 

be  applied  to  hitn  as  a  member  of  parliament ;  he  was, 
'  Major  imperio,  nisi  imperasset.' 

613.  In  mixed  conversation  he  was  full  of  pleasantry, 
on  politics  alone  he  was  bitter  and  inflexible.  During 
the  fervour  of  the  French  revolution,  he  talked  as  if 
England  was  upon  the  verge  of  a  great  political  change. 
Quod  volumusjacile  credimus.  Conversing  upon  the 
nature  of  the  aristocratical  part  of  the  British  constitu- 
tion, he  said  to  a  person  who  thought  very  differently 
to  himself,  '  I  trust  we  shall  live  to  see  the  day,  when 
the  distinction  of  titles  will  be  abolished,  and  we  may 
eat  our  mutton  without  being  teased  with  such  childish 
subjects  as  ribbons,  and  stars,  and  garters.' 

Instead  of  living  to  see  his  Utopian  dreams  of  equal- 
ity realized  in  Great  Britain,  he  lived  to  see  '  the  Child 
ind  Champion  of  Jacobinism'  revive  the  order  of  no- 
bility in  France  ;  and  as  if  to  show  his  contempt  for 
J  the  Rights  of  Man,'  he  decked  his  satellites  with  those 
liristocratical  insignia,  for  which  the  old  court  of  France 
jiad  been  so  much  persecuted  by  the  democrats. 

614.  When  he  heard  of  some  failures  of  meirchants 
n  the  city,  he  said,  '  You  are  not  going,  you  are  gone, 
t  is  not  a  slight  hurt,  but  a  mortal  gangrene.' 


615.  His  opinion  upon  the  subject  of  law  was  admir- 

*  ble.     '  Law,'  he  said,  '  ought  to  be,  not  a  luxury  for 

;Jhe  rich,   but  a  remedy,   to  be  easily,    cheaply,  and 

peedily  obtained  by  the  poor.'      A  person  observed 

him  how  excellent  are  the  English  laws,    because 

hey  are  impartial,  and  our  courts  of  justice  are  open 

)   all  persons    without   distinction.     '  And    so,'  said 

'ooke,  '  is  the  London  tavern,  to  such  as  can  afford  to 

ay  for  their  entertainment.' 

616.  He  was  very  severe  in  his  criticisms  on  authors, 
le  underrated  the  talents  of  Harris,  the  author  of 
lermes,  &c.  A  person  observed,  that  Harris  was  a 
lan  of  great  erudition,  as  appeared  by  his  numerous 


46  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

quotations,  in  support  of  his  opinions.     '  It  may  be  i 
said  Tooke  ;  '  but  as  judges  shelter  their  knavery 
precedents,  so  do  scholars  their  ignorance  by  auth< 
ity.' 

617.  He  said  of  a  certain  barrister,  whom  he  beli 
ed  to  be  a  perfect  democrat,  '  That  man  would  rejo 
to  see  all  London  burning,   that  he  might  roast  his 
tatoes  by  the  flames.' 

618.  During  the  time  of  his  trial  for  high  treasor 
1794,  one  cold  night  as  he  was  returning  from  the  ( 
Baily  to  Newgate,  a  lady  advancing  towards  him  p 
ed  up  the  collar  of  his  coat,  and  at  the  same  time 
a  silk  handkerchief  round  his  neck.  While  she 
employed  in  this  friendly  attention  he  gaily  said,  'Pr 
madam,  be  careful,  for  1  am  rather  ticklish  at  pres 
about  that  place.9 

6 1 9.  He  was  accused  of  being  implicated  with  I 
dy  and  the  other  prisoners,  in  the  design  of  going 
lengths  with  them  in  their  career  of  political  re  fori 
demolition.  'They  might,'  said  he,  'intend  tog' 
far  as  the  king  at  Windsor ;  but  1  defy  my  accuser 
prove,  by  an}7  overt  acts  of  mine,  that  I  intendec 
accompany  my  friends  any  farther  than  Brentford.*\ 

CHARLES  TOWNSEND. 

620.  Lord  flf***'*,  an  Irish  nobleman,  wa3  rei 
able  for  no  small  share  of  vanity.  When  he  w 
dulging  in  his  favourite  strain  of  egotism  in  a^ 
company,  he  made  the  following  remark  :  '  VAL 
happen  to  say  a  foolish  thing,  I  always  burst  c 
laughing.'  '  I  envy  your  happiness  then,'  said  Chj 
Townsend,  'for  you  must  live  the  merriest  life  of 
man  in  Europe.' 


LADY  TYRCONNEH. 

1.  The  laurels  which  James  II.  won  by  sea  hi 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  47 

>y  Jand.  Having  been  a  spectator  of  the  battle  of  the 
wne,  on  the  first  of  July  1690,  he  thought  it  most 
>rudent,  while  the  fortune  of  the  day  was  yet  undecid- 
d,  to  seek  his  safety  in  flight.  In  a  few  hours  he 
eached  the  castle  of  Dublin,  where  he  was  met  by 
ady  Tyrconnel,  a  woman  of  great  spirit.  'Your  coun- 
rymen,  the  Irish,  madam,  said  James,  as  he  was  as- 
ending  the  stairs,  *  can  run  well.'  4  Not  quite  so  well 
s  your  majesty,'  retorted  her  ladyship,  k  for  I  see  you 
ave  won  the  race.' 

VAUGELAS. 

622.  He  was  the  translator  of  Quintus  Curtius  into 
rench.     Voiture,  his  friend,  often  riilied  him,  on  the 

cessive  pains  he  took,  and  told  him  he  thought  he 
ould  never  finish  the  work,  and  that  he  employed  so 
uch  time  in  polishing  one  part  of  it.  that  the  French 
nguage  changed,  and  obliged  him  to  alter  all  the  rest. 

j  very  happily  appbed  to    the  tardy  translator,  the 

ll-known  epigram  of  Martial  : 

*  Eulrapelus  tor's  r  dum  rircuit  ora  huperci, 
Kxpurgitque  genets,  altera  barba  sube.it." 

said  he, 

'  Altera  lingua  s-ubest.'' 

The  translation,  when  it  at  last  was  published,  was 
fhly  commended  ;  and  its  favourable  reception  in- 
ced  Balsae  to  say,  '  That  the  Alexander  of  Quintus 
rtius  was  invincible,  and  the  Alexander  of  Vaugelas 
milable.' 

323.  He  obtained  a  pension  from  the  king  of  France 
the  interest  of  cardinal  Richelieu  ;  upon  which  oc- 
ion  the  cardinal  told  him  he  hoped  he  would  not 
?et  the  word  pension,  in  his  Dictionary.  '  No,  my 
i,'  said  -Vaugeias,  '  nor  the  word  gratittiiie.'' 

17 


48  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

MARSHAL  VILLARS. 

624.  When  the  great  marshal  Villars  was  past  fou 
score,  he  gave  a  signal  instance  of  his  alacrity  and  cou 
age,  in  attacking  some  squadrons  of  Imperial  horse  wi 
the  king  of  Sardinia's  guards.  That  king  express* 
his  admiration  of  this  exploit,  and  said,  '  Although  a 
vanced  in  years,  you  have  shown  all  the  ardour  of 
young  officer.'  To  this  compliment  the  marshal  rep 
ed,  "  Lamps  are  apt  to  sparkle  just  before  they  expirt 

625.  Marshal  Villars  had  many  enemies  at  the  coi 
of  Versailles.  When  he  went  there,  previous  to  resui 
ing  the  command  of  the  army  in  Flanders,  '  I  lea 
your  majesty,'  said  he,  '  in  the  midst  of  my  enemii 
while  1  go  to  combat  yours.' 

VOLTAIRE. 

626.  A  young  writer,  who  nattered  himself  he  W 
an  original  genius,  having  consulted  Voltaire  respecti 
a  tragedv,  which  he  had  filled  with  extravagant  in' 
dents,  Voltaire  pointed  out  his  defects.  This  yoi 
writer  took  pains  to  assure  him,  that  it  had  been  his  < 
ject  to  keep  as  far  from  the  imitation  of  Corneille  I 
Racine  as  possible.  '  So  much  the  worse  ;  for  do  3 
not  know,  sir,'  said  Voltaire,  '  that  a  good  imitatioi 
the  most  perfect  originality  ?' 

627.  Voltaire  observed,  '  That  what  makes  mod! 
historians  insipid,  is  their  entering  into  so  many  deta 
like  the  writers  of  newspapers.  Antient  historians 
not  condescend  to  be  so  circumstantial  ;  hence  Xl 
pictures  of  mankind  are  finished  in  a  much  higher  st] 
and  they  have  infinitely  more  spirit.' 

628.  He  once  called  upon  a  beautiful  lady,  to  wr, 
he  paid  this  compliment^  '  Your  rivals  are  the  per;, 
Hon  of  art,  but  you  are  the  perfection  of  nature.' 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  49 

629.  He  sometimes  consulted  physicians,  and  even 
quacks,  without  having  any  high  opinion  of  the  efficacy 
of  art  to  cure  the  disorders  of  the  human  constitution. 
Kegimen,'  said  he,  'is  of  more  service  than  medicine  : 
every  man  ought  to  be  his  own  physician  ;  he  ought  to 
assist  nature,  and  never  force  her  ;  but  more  than  all, 
be  ought  to  learn  to  bear  pain,  how  to  grow  old,  and 
low  to  die.' 

'  630.  '  Some  things  are  injurious  to  us,  others  are  sal- 
utary. Eat  with  moderation  what  you  know  by  expe- 
dience will  agree  with  you  :  nothing  is  good  for  the 
'institution  but  what  is  easy  of  digestion.  What  receipt 
vill  promote  digestion  ?  Exercise. — What  will  recruit 
trength  ?  Sleep. — What  will  lessen  even  incurable 
viis  ?  Patience.' 

631.  The  history  of  England  appeared  to  him  to  be 
blackened  with  horrible  scenes,  that  he  said,  'it  was 

written  by  an  executioner,  for  almost  all  the  disputes  in 
ngland  have  been  terminated  either  upon  the  scaffold 
r  by  the  gallows.' 

632.  In  a  conversation  with  Mr.  Sherlock,  he  said, 
The  tragedy  of  Cato  is  admirably  well  written  :  Ad- 
ison  had  a  great  deal  of  taste  ;  but  the  abyss  between 
iste  and  genius  is  immense.  Shakspeare  had  an  ast- 
onishing genius,  but  no  taste  :  he  has  spoiled  the  taste 
f  the  English  :  he  has  been  their  favourite  for  two 
undred  years  ;  and  what  is  the  taste  of  a  nation  for 
ivo  hundred  years,  will  continue  so  for  two  thousand.' 

633.  Voltaire  was  very  fond  of  talking  English  :  he 
Dnversed  in  that  language  with  the  celebrated  Dr. 
ranklin.  Miss  Denis  told  him,  it  would  be  more 
jpeeable  to  the  company  if  he  would  talk  French. 
My  dear  niece,'  said  he,  '  you  cannot  imagine  how 
roud  I  am  to  converse  in  the  language  of  Dr.  Frank- 


634.  '  What  is  your  opinion  of  Ariosto  ?'  said  Vot^ 


50  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

taire  to  an  abbd  just  returned  from  Italy.  '  I  think  hir 
a  great  poet,'  «aid  the  abbe.  '  I  think  him,'  said  Vol 
taire  with  some  warmth,  '  the  greatest  of  poets.  Hi 
Orlando  Furioso  is  an  enchanted  palace,  where  1 1 1 
burlesque  is  so  happily  blended  wit«  the  majestic,  :h? 
one  sets  off  the  other.  It  is  at  once  the  Iliad,  the  Odyj 
sey,  and  Don  Quixote.' 

635.  He  was  determined  to  be  never  outdone 
compliments.  He  said  once  to  Vernet  the  painter,  ii 
return  for  his  praise,  'Your  colours  are  beautiful  an 
lasting",  and  your  name  will  be  immortal.'  'My  colours 
replied  Vernet,  '  are  not  so  durable  as  your  ink  :'  an 
he  was  going,  when  he  uttered  these  words,  to  kis 
Voltaire's  hand.  'What  are  you  going  to  do  ?'  stil 
Voltaire  drawing  back  :  'If  you  kiss  my  hand,  I  mu 
kiss  your  feet.' 

636.  The  following  was  the  most  apt  and  brill iai 
allusion  he  ever  made.  It  would  perhaps  be  difficu 
in  all  the  annals  of  wit  to  find  an  instance  that  surpas 
ses  it.  Voltaire  said  many  flattering  things  of  a  cell 
brated  writer,  probably  Boileau.  lie  set,  however, 
much  higher  value  upon  his  '  Art  of  Poetry,'  than  upci 
his  '  Poems.'  '  He  resembles  Moses,'  said  Voltaini 
'  who  pointed  out  the  promised  land  to  others,  but  nei 
er  reached  it  himself.' 

The  above  are  some  of  the  most  favourable  spec, 
mens  of  Voltaire's  facetiousness  ;  but  their  brillianc 
ought  not  to  make  us  blind  to  the  spirit  which  pervade 
too  many  of  his  works.  The  following  character  ( 
him,  written  by  one  who  witnessed  the  calamitous  effect 
of  his  publications  upon  the  minds  and  the  actions  < 
bis  countrymen  at  the  beginning  of  the  French  revolt 
lion,  is  no  less  poignant  than  just. 

637.  '  He  was  the  grand  corruptor  of  the  French 
and,  with  all  his  pretended  freedom  of  expression,  b 
flattered  every  king  and  every  vice  of  his  age.  H 
Rnevy  not  how  to  strike  at  superstition  without  woundin 


FLOWERS    OF  WIT.  51 

norality  ;  unlike  Hercules,  who  transfixed  the  Centaur 
without  hurting  the  beautiful  Deianira.  With  his  eier- 
\al  sardonic  smile,  he  has  bequeathed  us  a  shamelul 
Pyrrhonism  and  a  cruel  levity,  which  make  us  glide 
itike  over  virtues  and  vices.'* 

LORD  WALGRAVE. 

638.  Lord  Walgrave  abjured  the  Catholic  religion, 
ind  was  a  long  time  ambassador  at  Paris.  He  was  6ne 
ay  teazed  upon(  the  subject  of  his  conversion  by  the 
uke  of  Berwick!  '  Pray,'  said  he,  ■  Mr.  Ambassador, 
ho  had  most  to  do  in  your  conversion,  the  ministers 

state  or  the  ministers  of  religion  V  '  This  is  a  ques- 
on,'  said  his  lordship,  '  you  must  excuse  my  answer- 
g,  for  when  1  ceased  to  be  a  Catholic,  1  renounced 
nifession.' 

EDMUND  WALLER. 

639.  A  motion  was  made  in  the  house  of  commons, 
the  time  of  the  grand  rebellion,  that  such  men  as 
:re  chosen  to  serve  in  the  parliament's  troops  should 
'.faithful  and  skilful  riders.  Mr.  Waller  said,  '  He 
uch  approved  the  motion  ;  for  it  is  very  necessary 
e  riders  be  faithful,  lest  they  run  away  with  the  hor- 
s ;  and  .skilful,  lest  their  horses  run  away  with  the 
lers.' 

40.  King  Charles  II.,  after  the  Restoration,  told  Wal- 
,  that  he  had  made  better  verses  and  said  finer  things 
the  usurper  Cromwell  than  of  him  :  '  That  may  very 
"  be,'  said  Waller,  '  for  poets  generally  succeed 
tter  in  fiction  than  in  telling  truth.' 

341.  King  James  II.  treated  him  with  great  kindness 
i  familiarity.  One  day,  taking  him  into  his  closet, 
:  king  asked  him  how  he  liked  one  of  the  pictures. 
Iy  eyes,'  said  Waller,  then  at  a  very  advanced  age, 

♦Nouveau  Tableau  de  Paris,  par  Mercier. 

17* 


52  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

1  are  dim,  and  I  do  not  know  it.'  The  king  said  it  vva 
the  princess  of  Orange.  *  She  is,'  said  Waller,  '  lik 
the  greatest  woman  in  the  world.'  The  king  aske 
who  that  was  ;  and  was  answered,  Queen  Elizabetl 
4  1  wonder,'  said  the  king, '  you  should  think  so  ;  b* 
I  must  confess  she  had  a  wise  council.'  '  And,  sir,'  sai 
Waller,  '  did  you  ever  know  a  fool  choose  a  wise  one' 

642.  When  the  king  knew  that  he  was  about  to  ma: 
ry  his  daughter  to  Dr.  Birch,  a  clergyman,  he  ordere 
a  French  gentleman  to  tell  him,  that  the  king  wonde 
ed  he  could  think  of  marrying  his  daughter  to  a  fallin 
church.  '  The  king,'  said  Waller,  k  does  me  gre; 
honour,  in  taking  notice  of  my  domestic  affairs  ;  but 
have  lived  long  enough  to  observe,  that  this  fallir 
church  has  got  a  trick  of  rising  again.' 

643.  The  poet  Waller   to  a  lady  singing  one  of  h 

own  songs : 
i  That  eagle's  fate  and  mine  are  one, 

Who  on  the  shaft  that  made  him  die, 
Espied  a  feather  of  his  own, 

Wherewith  he  wont  to  soar  so  high.' 

LADY  WALLIS. 

644.  Lady  Wallis,  seeing  a  gentleman  saunterirj 
about  in  one  of  her  parties,  said,  4  Pray,  sir,  do  yt 
play  cards?'    'No,   my   lady.'      '  Do  you   dance 

•  No,'  repeated  the  saunterer.  '  Then,  sir,'  said  sh- 
'  give  me  leave  to  say,  you  are  neither  useful  nor  o 
namental.' 

SIR  ROBERT  WALPOLE. 

645.  One  day  in  the  house  of  commons,  a  speaker; 
opposition  to  the  ministry,  and  famous  for  his  long  hi 
rangues,  had  been  upon  his  legs  nearly  two  hours,  i 
veighing  against  sir  Robert's  measures.  He  was 
lenced  For  several  days,  by  sir  Robert  telling  the  k 
towing  story.    '  A  short  time  ago,'  said  the  premier,  'I 


FLOWERS    OF  WIT.  53 

*as  travelling  in  the  west  of  England  with  two  ladies 
tnd  a  gentleman.    Our  carriage  was  in  very  good  re- 
>air,  the  roads  were-  very  smooth,  and  the  coachman 
vas  an  expert  driver.    One  of  the  ladies,  however,  ap- 
peared to  be  greatly  terrified,  crying  out  every  minute, 
|re  should  be  overturned,  or,  the  carriage  would  cer- 
ainly  break  down.     This  language  she  held  for  several 
liles,  whilst  I  endeavoured  to  prevail  upon  her  to  lay 
side  her  apprehensions,  assuring  her  we  were  in  no 
tanger  whatever,  that  we  were  travelling  in  the  greatest 
[ecurity  imaginable,  and  that  all  her  fears  were  entirely 
roundless.      At  length    the  gentleman,  her  brother, 
urst  into  a  violent  laugh,  saying,  his  sister  knew  per- 
BCtly  well  we  were  safe,  but  having  a  melodious  voice, 
nd  a  fluency  of  words,  she  was  very  fond  of  hearing 
erself  talk  :    and  sir  Robert  concluded  with  observing, 
that  several  gentlemen  in  the  opposition  exactly  re- 
embled  the  lady  he  had  mentioned  ;  for  though  they 
lust  be  convinced  that  the  state   vehicle  was  in  per- 
ctly  good  repair,  and  was  well  conducted,  yet  they 
ere  so  fond  of  hearing  themselves  harangue,  that  they 
ized  every  opportunity  of  indulging  their  loquacity  at 
le  expense  of  their  judgment. 

HORACE  WALPOLE, 

646.  Hearing  that  two  of  his  female  relations  had 
jarrelled,  asked,  *  Did  they  call  each  other  ugly  ?' 
No.'  *  Well,  well,  then,'  said  he,  '  1  shall  soon  re- 
)ncile  them.' 

BISHOP  WARBURTON. 

His  abilities  were  powerful,  and  his  information  vari- 
!S,  chiefly  the  result  of  the  studies  of  bis  mature  age. 
Ithough  his  natural  temper  was  haughty  and  imperi- 
ls, he  was  obsequious  and  humble  whenever  he  thought 
prudent  to  bend  to  circumstances.  No  author  was 
er  more  fond  of  a  paradox.  He  was  a  perfect  Don 
uixote  in  literature,  for  he  saw  objects  as  no  one  else 
w  them  :  and  when  hrs  imagination  had  once  meta- 


54  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

morphosed  them  into  new  shapes,  each  became  as  dea 
to  hirn  as  a  Dulcinea  del  Toboso,  and  he  assailed  al 
opponents  with  unabating  fury.  As  a  specimen  of  thi 
critical  chivalry,  he  wrote  a  dissertation  to  prove,  tha 
the  descent  of  iEneas  into  the  infernal  regions  was  de 
signed  by  Virgil  to  describe  the  initiation  of  a  novic< 
into  the  Eleusinian  mysteries.  Was  he  aware  that  fa 
ther  Hardouin  had  made  a  much  greater  discovery 
for  he  had  found  out  that  the  whole  ^Eneid  was  an  al 
legory.  intended  to  describe  the  voyage  of  St.  Peter  t 
Rome  !  !  ! 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  who  knew  Warburton  well 
said,  with  reference  to  his  Notes  on  Shakspeare,  *  Hi 
only  use  was  in  starting  the  game  ;  but  he  was  not  t 
be  trusted  in  running  it  down.' 

647.  Dr.  Bentley,  when  he  saw  '  The  Divine  Lega 
tion  of  Moses,'  said,  '  The  author  of  this  work  has 
monstrous  appetite,  with  a  bad  digestion.' 

648.  He  used  to  say,  '  That  the  two  most  difficul 
things  to  meet  with  in  the  world  were,  a  disintereste 
man,  and  a  woman  who  had  common  sense — that  sens 
without  which  wit  is  folly,  learning  pedantry,  and  virtu 
itself  weakness  of  mind.' 

649.  After  a  long  absence  he  appeared  at  court,  whe 
the  king  observing  to  him,  he  supposed  he  had  just  le 
his  diocese  ;  '  No  please  your  majesty,'  said  the  bishoj 
'  I  am  just  come  from  Prior  Park,  near  my  diocese,  bi 
not  in  it.'  '  What  have  you  been  doing  ?'  said  th 
king.  '  I  have,  replied  the  bishop,  *  been  combatin 
the  enemies  of  that  faith,  of  which  your  majesty  is  th 
avowed  and  zealous  defender.' 

DR.  JOSEPH  WARTON. 

He  was  a  delightful  poet,  a  most  elegant  scholar,  am 
an  able  critic.  His  conversation  was  rich  and  fluenl 
and  displayed  exhaustless  stores  of  wit,  pleasantry,  am 
I'terary  anecdotes. 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  5b' 

t*>0.  Dr.  Balguy,  a  very  able  divine,  having  preach- 
ki  an  excellent  discourse  in  Winchester  cathedral,  the 
j?xt  of  which  was,  '  All  wisdom  is  sorrow,'  received  the 
Mowing  elegant  compliment  from  Joseph  Warton,  then 
t  Winchester  school  : — 

*  If  what  yon  advance,  my  dear  doctor  be  true, 
That  wisdom  is  sorrow,  how  wretched  are  you  V 

651.  The   following  very  sweet  address  to  Music, 
a  free  translation  of  a  chorus  in  the  Medea  of  Eurip- 

les.     Dr.  Warton  said,  that  he  composed  these  verses 

hile  he  was  drawing  on  his  boots  : — 

1  Queen  of  ev'ry  moving  measure, 
Sweetest  source  of  purest  pleasure, 
Music  !  why  thy  powers  employ, 
Only  for  the  sons  of  joy  ; 
Only  for  the  smiling  guests, 
At  natal  or  at  nuptial  feasts  ? 
Rather  thy  lenient  numbers  pour 
On  those  whom  secret  griefs  devour ; 
Bid  be  still  the  throbbing  h»  arts 
Of  those  whom  death  or  absence  parts? 
And  with  some  softly- whisper' d  air, 
Smooth  the  brow  of  dumb  despair.' 

#52.  In  his  'Ode  to  Fancy,'   he  has  drawn  a  pathet- 
picture,  which  shows  the  originality  of  his  genius  < — - 


'Haste  Fancy,  from  the  scenea  of  Folly, 
To  meet  the  matron    Melancholy  ? 
Lead  to  some  abbey's  mould'ring  tow'rs, 
Where,  to  avoid  cold   wintry  show'rs, 
The   naked   beggar  shiv'rmg  lies. 
While  whistling  temptests  round   her  rise, 
And  trembles  lest  the  tott'ring  wall 
Should  on  her  sleeping  infants  fall.' 


53.  Dr.  Warton's  opinion  was  asked  of  War- 
rton's  Divine  Legation  of  Moses.  It  is  a  work 
i  he,  'in  which  numerous  quotations  are  very  ingen.- 


56  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

iously  strung  together  to  support  a  paradox.  Warburlc 
vvSs  a  clever  man,  but  not  a  regular  or  deep  schola 
He  is  indebted,  for  most  of  his  quotations,  with  whic 
he  makes  such  a  parade  of  learning,  to  the  collection 
of  Graevius  and  Gronovius.  As  he  could  not  reac 
the  stream  of  Ilissus,  nor  the  fountain  of  Aganipp» 
and  there  drink  copiously,  he  was  glad  to  take 
draught  of  classical  water  from  the  reservoirs  of  otl 
era.' 

THOMAS  WARTON. 

His  writings  display  great  richness  of  fancy,  vigoi 
of  judgment,  and  extent  of  learned  research.  In  tr 
company  of  strangers  he  was  reserved,  among  his  da 
ly  associates  affable  and  good-humoured  ;  but  his  coi 
versation  rarely  took  any  high  flight  of  fancy,  or  wic 
range  observation.  It  usually  fell  very  much  belo 
the  powers  of  his  mind  ;    and  his  delight  was,  in  cor  I 

liance  with  the  old  fashion  of  the  university,    toil 

ujge  himself  in  making  puns. 


& 


654.  During  the  first,  American  war  there  was 
camp  at  Coxheath,  and  Warton  passed  some  time  ther! 
He  was  asked  by  a  colonel  of  one  of  the  regiments  ! 
read  prayers  and  preach,  and  the  colonel  expressed  ( 
hope  th-it  he  did  not  come  unprovided  with  theologies 
ammunition.  'No,  no,'  said  Warton,  'I  have  broug 
some  old  stores  with  me  that,  I  hope,  will  answer  tn 
purnose  you  wish  :  I  assure  you  I  come  provided  wit 
both  Muscat  and  Ball.'  These  were  the  names  of  tw 
writers  of  sermons. 

I 

655.  In  a  company  where  Tom  Warton  was  presen* 
a  person  was  talking  of  the  active  disposition  of  tl 
king,  and  that  he  possessed  a  number  of  time-piece 
particularly  a  watch  so  light  and  small  that  he  cou'l 
wear  it  as  a  ring  :  i  The  king  wears  this,'  said  Warto 
'  to  show  that  time  does  not  hang  heavy  upon  hi 
hands.' 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  57 

The  king  conferred  on  alderman  Treacher,  an  Ox- 
ord  brewer,  the  honour  of  knighthood.  Warton  was 
Did  that  Treacher  was  made  a  knight  of  the  new  or- 
er  of  Peg  Nicholson.  *  Sir,'  said  the  wag,  '  the  king 
nould  have  revived  an  old  order,  the  brewer  should 
ave  been  dubbed  a  knight  of  Malta.' 

657.  A  person  just  returned  from  London,  told  him 
e  had  attended  an  execution  at  Tyburn,  and  had  seen 
ack  Ketch  dressed  very  shabbily      '  Do  you  not  think, 

ir,'  said  he,  '  that  such  a  public  officer  ought  to  wear  a 
own  V      '  By  all  means,'   replied  Warton  ;  '  but  be 

tire  to  let  him  have  hanging  sleeves  to  it.' 

I  658.  Tom  Warton's  conversation  turned  upon  Rapin's 
[History  of  England,'  when  he  was  disturbed  by  a 
loung  man,  whose  name  was  Tindal,  making  a  noise  at 
jtae  college  gate.     The  discussion    was   resumed,  and 

pain  interrupted  by  Tindal  knocking  for  admittance 
the  college  gate.     On  one  of  the  company  asking 

barton  what  was  the  matter,  '  I  believe,, sir,'  said  he, 

t  is  TindaVs  continuation  of  Rap-in? 

659.  He  heard  two  physicians  talking  of  the  singu- 
beauty  of  a  lady  :  they  both  conversed  with  great 
limation,  and  seemed  to  contend  which  should  praise 
r  the  most.  '  I  do  not  wonder,  gentlemen,'  said  War- 
p,  *  at  the  warmth  of  your  discussion,  as  the  subject 
it  is  a  Venus  de  MedicisS 

i660.  It  was  reported  that  a  certain  duke  who  lived 
the  vicinity  of  Oxford,  not  remarkable  for  his  Iiber- 
ity,  allowed  his  servants  to  dispose  of  the  produce  of 
3  lake.  '  I  always  suspected,'  said  Warton,  'that 
man  was  sel-Jish.' 

661.  He  used  jocosely  to  say,  that  the  university  of 
uibridge  must  not  object  to  Oxford  its  total  neglect 
various  branches  connected  with  the  study  of  mathe- 
tics.  Is  not  navigation  learnt  on  the  Isis,  gunnery 
the  neighbouring  hill  ?  The  avcis  in  peritrochio  is 


58  FLOWERS    ©F    WIT. 

well  illustrated  by  a  scheme  in  a  phaeton  ;  .the  dot 
trine  of  the  screw  is  practically  explained  most  ever 
ings  in  the  students'  room,  together  with  the  motion  < 
fluids.9 

662.  The  following  beautiful  epigrammatic  Invoec 
fion  to  sleep  is  attributed  to  T.  Warton  : 

k  Sonne,  vera,  quanquam  cerlissima  mortit  imago  eft 

Consorltm  eupio  it  tamux  esse  tori. 
Hue  odes,  hand  abitart  cito,  nam  sic  sine  vita 

Vivere  quam  suave  est,  sic  sine  morte  mori. 

O  Sleep,  of  death  although  the  image  true, 
JVluch  I  desire  to  share  my  bed  with  you. 
O  come  and  tarry,  for  how  sweet  to  lie, 
Thu9  without  life,  thus  without  death  to  die.' 

There  is  something  in  the  point  of  these  verses,  th; 
may  remind  the  reader  of  the  following  lines  of  Gira 
dus  Cambrensis  : 

4  Vive  Deo,  tibi  mors  re  quits,  libi  vita  labori ; 
Vive  Deo,  mors  est  vtvere,  vita  mori? 

663.  Inscription  over  a  calm  and  clear  spring  i\ 

Blenheim  gardens  : — 

1  Here  quench  your  thirst,  and  mark  in  me 
An  emblem  of  true  charity, 
Who,  while  my  bounty  I  bestow. 
Am  neither  seen  nor  heard  to  flow.' 

This  union  of  ideas  is  highly  beautiful.  It  is  possi 
ble  that  Warton  might  have  seen  the  following  inscrip 
{ion  upon  a  fountain  at  Paris  : 

4  Qua  tibi  donat  aquam,  la/el  hosjuia  nympha  sub  imo ; 
Sic  tit,  cwm  dederis  dona,  latere  velis.' 


FLOWERS    OP   WIT.  S9 

PHILIP  DLKE  OF  WARTON. 

i  Was  prodigal  in  his  expenses  and  versatile  in  poll" 
Is,  a  courtier  at  home  and  a  rebel  abroad.  His  dissi- 
ted  character  and  conduct  are  supposed  to  have  fur* 
hed  Richardson  with  materials  for  his  Lovelace  in 
i  novel  of  Clarissa  Harlowe 

564.  In  the  reign  of  queen  Anne,  Robert  Harley, 
|fl  of  Oxford,  the  premier,   caused  a  number  of  peers 

be  created  at  one  time,  to  carry  a  particular  point 
he  upper  house.  The  duke  of  Wharton  meeting 
1  soon  after,  with  some  allusion  to  his  fondness  for 
game  ol  whist,  as  well  as  an  immediate  reference 
what  he  had  just  done,  said,  'So,  Robin,  I  find  what 
1  lost  by  tricks  you  have  gained  by  honours.' 

565.  The  duke  complained  to  sir  John  Cutler,  the 
ed  miser,  of  the  disorder  of  his  affairs,  and  asked 

what  he  should  do  to  prevent  the  loss  of  his  estate. 
ve  as  I  do,  my  lord,'  said  sir  John.  'That  I  can  do,' 
wered  the  duke,  'after  1  am  ruined.' 

PROFESSOR  WHITE. 

66.  He  is  one  of  the  old  school  of  Oxford  punsters, 
e  professor  went  to  see  Blenheim  House,  and  a  par- 
)f  young  persons  were  appointed  to  meet  him  there, 
►lenheim  can  only  be  seen  at  a   certain  time  of  the 

,  and  the  party  arrived  too  late.  One  of  his  friends 
Ided  them  for  being  so  tardy.  '  You  must  make 
allowance,'     said   the  good-natured    professor ; 

ung  folks,  you  should  recollect,  will  have  their  past- 


67.  Just  after  the  attack  which  Dr.  Parr  made  upon 
.  claiming  a  large  share  of  the  Bampton  Lectures, 
professor  went  down  to  Dover  to  bathe.  Some 
on  advised  him  to  go  into  the  warm  bath.  'I  thank 
,  sir,'  said  the  professor,  •  but  I  don't  think  I  want 
is  I  have  already  been  par-boiled.' 
18 


GO  FLOWERS     OF    WIT. 

668.  He  was  in  the  Bodleian  Library  when  the  c 
lection  of  coins  and  medals  was  shown  to  a  party- 
strangers.  By  some  accident  a  drawer  containing:  ma 
of  the  pieces  was  overturned,  and  they  were  scatter 
upon  the  floor.  '  This  is  a  fine  sight,  indeed,'  said  h 
'  I  don't  know  when  I  have  seen  so  much  current  coi 

JOHN  WILKES. 

669.  At  a  city  meeting  John  Wilkes  harangued  1 
assembly  ;  and  on  some  clamour  being  made,  alderro 
Sawbridge  said  to  Wilkes,  '  Had  you  not  better  be 
lent,  as  you  see  the  sense  of  the  assembly  is  agar 
you  V  '  The  sense,'  said  Wilkes,  '  may  be  against  m 
but  I  am  determined  to  persevere  in  my  speech,  as  I 
majority  in  such  a  meeting  as  this  is  always  on  the  si 
of  nonsense. ' 

670.  John  Wilkes  was  asked  why  he,  who  was  for 
erly  all  alive  upon  such  occasions,  was  now  so  lul 
warm  in  an  election  that  was  going  forward.  I 
answer  was,  '  I  am  old  and  infirm,  and  am  now  lik<! 
volcano  burnt  out.' 

BISHOP  WILKINS. 

It  would  be  an  act  of  injustice  to  the  author  of  c 
of  the  neatest  repartees  that  ever  was  made,  not  to  gi| 
it  a  place  in  this  collection.  To  say  that  it  is  w 
known,  is  only  an  acknowledgement  of  its  excellent- 

i 

671.  The  duchess  of  Newcastle,  who  was  a  gtti 
writer  of  plays  and  romances  in  the  time  of  Charles! 
asked  bishop  Wilkins,  who  had  just  announced  his  d 
covery  of  a  world  in  the  moon,  how  she  could  get  the> 
'  As  the  journey,'  said  she,  '  must  needs  be  very  lor 
there  will  be  no  possibility  of  going  through  it  withe 
stopping  by  the  way.'  '  Your  grace,'  replied  the  bi: 
op,  'can  be  at  no  loss  for  places  to  stop  at,  as  you  ha 
built  so  many  castles  in  the  air.' 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  61 

ARCHBISHOP  WILLIAMS. 

672.  He  showed  such  resolution  in  the  defence  of 
iscopacy  at  the  beginning  of  the  troubles  of  Charles 
that  the  king  said  to  him,  '  My  lord,  I  commend 
u,  that  you  are  no  whit  daunted  with  all  disasters, 
t  are  zealous  in  defending  your  order.'  '  Please  it 
lur  majesty,'  replied  the  archbishop,  '  I  am  one  of  the 
le  Welshmen,  and  they  are  observed  never  to  run 
ay  till  their  general  first  forsakes  them— no  fear  of 
r  flinching,  while  your  majesty  doth  countenance  our 
jse.' 

TRUE  WITCHCRAFT. 

373.  An  Italian  lady,  the  wife  of  the  marshal  d'Ancre, 
ving  had  great  ascendency  over  Mary  de  Medicis 
een  of  France,  after  her  death  was  brought  to  trial 
a  charge  of  witchcraft.  Being  asked  what  potent 
"  she  had  used  to  fascinate  the  queen  :  'The  potent 
'  she  replied,  '  by  which  a  strong  mind  fascinates 
ireak  one.' 

THE  PENSIONARY  DE  WITT. 

74.  '  Hold  your  tongue,'  said  a  Frenchman  ;  'you 
;  so  much,  1  cannot  taste  my  meat.'  '  Silence,'  said 
hild  to  his  mamma  at  a  pantomime  ;  '  do  you  not 

harlequin  is  going  to  jump  over  the  clown's  head  !' 
vas  great  vanity  in  Caesar  to  pretend  to  dictate  ac- 
ately  to  three  secretaries  at  the  same  time.  The 
ly  of  the  celebrated  pensionary  de  Witt  was  much 
re  judicious.  On  being  asked  how  he  contrived  to 
nsact  a  multiplicity  of  business  in  the  course  of  the 
r,  without  neglect  or  disorder,  he  answered,  '1  make 

rule  always  to  attend  to  one  thing  at  a  time.' 

GENERAL  WOLFE. 

575.  General  Wolfe  was  always  anxious  to  main- 


62  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

tain  the  respectability  of  the  military  character ;  I 
therefore  treated  every  soldier  as  a  gentleman.  0 
day  when  taking  a  ride,  he  dismounted,  and  left  I 
horse  for  his  servant  to  hold.  On  his  return  he  foui 
a  grenadier  holding  his  own  and  his  servant's  hors 
and  the  servant  gone  He  thanked  the  grenadier  ( 
the  trouble  he  had  taken,  held  the  horses  himself,  ai 
desired  him  to  stay  with  him.  On  the  servant's  retur 
1  Sirrah,'  said  the  general,  '  what  do  you  mean  by  d 
serting  your  service,  and  taking  up  the  time  of  this  s( 
dier  ?  Had  he  been  upon  the  parade,  and  I  had  ei 
ployed  him  as  you  have,  it  would  have  been  prop 
enough  :  but  can  you  be  such  a  fool  as  to  think,  as  I 
has  the  honour  to  wear  the  uniform  of  the  king,  and 
engaged  to  fight  for  his  country,  that  he  ought  to  supp 
the  place  of  an  idle  servant  ?  Know  that  it  is  your  d 
ty,  and  my  command,  that  you  wait  upon  the  soldiei 
and  not  the  soldiers  upon  you.' 

67^.  General  Wolfe  invited  a  Scotch  officer  to  dii 
with  him,  the  same  day  he  was  also  invited  by  son 
brother  officers.  *  You  must  excuse  me,'  said  he 
them  ;  '  I  am  already  engaged  to  Wolfe. ■  A  gma: 
young  ensign  observed,  he  might  as  well  have  expres 
ed  himself  with  more  respect,  and  said  General  Wolf 
*  Sir,'  said  the  Scotch  officer  with  great  promptitud! 
4  We  never  say  General  Alexander  or  General  Caesan 
Wolfe,  who  was  within  hearing,  by  a  low  bow  to  tl 
Scotch  officer,  acknowledged  the  pleasure  he  felt  at  tl 
high  compliment. 

THE  MAGNANIMITY    OF   WOMEIN 

This  quality  was  not  confined  to  the  women  of  Spa 
ta,  as  the  following  anecdotes  will  prove. 

G77.  When  John  Sobieski,  king  of  Poland,  mounte 
hit  horse  to  go  to  raise  the  siege  of  Vienna,  than  clos< 
ly  invested  by  the  Turks,  the  queen  his  wife  looked  < 
him  with  eyes  streaming  with  tears,  and  then  looked  i| 
a  little  boy,  the  youngest  of  her  sons.    'Why,  ray  lov« 


FLOWERS    OF   WIT.  6a 

>  you  weep  so  bitterly  ?'  said  the  king  to  her.     '  I 
eep,'  said  she,  '  because  this  child  is  not  old  enough 
accompany  his  father.' 

(678.  Tidings  of  the  battle  of  Ramillies,  so  fatal  to 
te  French  arms,  reached  madam  Villeroi.  Her  hus- 
nd,  the  marshal  Villeroi,  had  lost  that  battle  to  John 
e  great  duke  of  Marlborough.  One  of  the  triends  of 
js  above-mentioned  lady  came  to  give  her  comfort, 
fd  assured  her  that  the  marshal  had  escaped  unhurt, 
|d  was  in  good  health.  '  That,'  said  she,  '  may  be 
bugh  for  me,  but  it  is  not  enough  for  him.' 

THE  MARQUIS  OF  WORCESTER. 

Edward  Somerset,  marquis  of  Worcester,  was-  a 
alous  Catholic,  a  man  of  the  highest  honour,  courage, 
i  enterprise,  and  so  loyal  a  cavalier,  that  he  made 
>ry  sacrifice  in  his  power  to  the  service  of  Charles  1. 
5  castle  of  Ragland  in  Monmouthshire  was  the  last 
tress  that  was  surrendered  to  the  rebels. 

179.  He  was  famous  for  his  pithy  and  pleasant  con- 
sation.  He  was  always  inclinable  to  charitable  con- 
ictions  of  any  person's  conduct,  and  was  never  at  a 
5  for  some  excuse  or  other  to  palliate  imperfections, 
as  !  gentlemen,'  said  he  to  some  of  his  friends,  who 
ke  freely  of  one  who  was  vain  and  ostentatious,  yet 
[  considerable  merit  ;  '  will  you  have  corn  grow 
hout  chaff,  or  light  to  be  without  darkness,  or  pleas- 
wines  without  dregs  ?  If  you  set  a  man  on  his  horse, 
him  have  his  spurs.' 

80.  The  following  are  extracts  from  a  copy  of  a  very 
work  preserved  in  the  British  museum,  entitled 
orcester's  Apothegmes,  by  T  B.  1650.' 
When  king  Charles  I.  entered  the  castle  of  Reg- 
l,  after  the  battle  of  Naseby,  the  marquis  kneeling, 
ed  the  king's  hand  ;  and  rising  up  again,  he  salut; 
his  majesty  with  this  compliment,  '  Domine,  non 
dignusS  The  king  replied,  'My  lord,  1  may  very 
18* 


64  FLOWERS    OF  WIT* 

wall  answer  you  again,  I  have  not  found  so  great  faith 
Israel ;  for  no  man  would  trust  me  with  so  much  monei 
as  you  have  done.'     To  which  the  marquis  replied, 
hope  your  majesty  will  prove  a  defender  of  the  faith* 

'  The  king;  thanked  the  marquis  for  the  monies  le 
him  :  the  marquis  returned  the  king  this  answer  :  *Si 
1  had  your  word  for  my  money,  but  I  never  thought 
should  be  so  soon  repaid  ;  for  now  you  have  given  n 
thanks,  I  have  all  I  look  for.' 

1  The  marquis  was  one  day  reading  us  a  lecture 
patience   in  our  adversity.     Among  the  rest  of  tho 
witty  sayings    which  came  from  him,  he  told  us  th 
there  was  nothing  so  bad  but  was  good  for  something - 
1  For,'  said  he,  '  if  there  were  no  silence,  there  cou 
be  no  musick  ;  for  the  suddain  stops  that  are  in  musi 
adde  to  the  grace  and  perfection  of  the  arte  :  ignoran 
is   a  spur  to  knowledge  ;  darkness  is  a  pavilion  tot 
Almighty,  a  cabbinor  drawn  chamber  for  us  to  sleep 
a  dungeon  for  the  judge  to  punish  his  delinquents,  a, 
a  foile   for  the  painter  to  make  his  shadowes  ;  so  i 
afflictions  good  for  our  instruction,  and  adversities 
our  amendment.' 

ZENO. 

681.  The  ambassadors  of  a  certain  prince  invil 
Zeno  the  philosopher  to  a  sumptuous  feast  ;  and  vv« 
surprised,  as  they  had  heard  much  of  his  powers 
conversation,  that  he  did  not  talk  at  all.  VVhen  tli. 
asked  what  report  they  should  make  of  him  :  '  T 
your  prince,  said  he, *  that  you  have  been  in  compi 
with  an  old  man  who  could  hold  his  tongue.' 

682.  A  person  asked  Zeno  the  philosopher,  if  ■ 
men  ever  fall  in  love.     His  answer  was,  ■  If  wise  ri| 
do  not  fall  in  love,  beautiful  women  must  be  very 
fortunate.' 

COUNT  ZENOBIO, 

An  emigrant  Venetian,  who  long  resided  in  Engla 
and  indulged  his  fondness  for  Bonaparte  and  for  caj 


^LOWERS   OF  WIT.  &b 

G83.  He  challenged  an  officer  to  play  with  him  at  all- 
urs,  thinking,  from  his  superior  knowledge  of  the 
me,  he  should  make  an  easy  conquest.  The  officer, 
wever,  proved  more  than  a  match  for  him,  and  eased 
e  confident  Venetian  of  a  considerable  sum.  He 
►re  his  loss  with  good  humour,  and  when  he  related 
e  story  of  his  defeat,  said,  I  was  mistaken  in  my  an- 
gonist  :  1  thought  to  have  plucked  a  pigeon,  but  1 
ive  been  seized  upon  by  a  hawk.' 

ZEUX1S. 

He  flourished  four  hundred  years  before  Christ,  and 
as  the  rival  of  Timanthes,  Parrhasius,  and  Apollo- 
jrus. 

684.  Pliny  the  elder  bestowed  upon  this' artist  that 
ctraordinary  and  judicious  praise  which  conveys  to  us 

high  idea  of  his  talents.  Speaking  of  the  picture 
hich  Zeuxis  painted  of  Penelope,  Pliny  says,  '  He 
linted  the  manners  of  that  queen.' 

685.  Zeuxis  never  attempted  to  finish  his  works  with 
pidity  ;  and  when  a  person  reproached  him  tor  his 
rdiness,  he  said,  the  reason  of  his  slow  progress  was, 
That  he  painted  for  eternity.' 

His  last  picture  was  an  old  woman  :  it  was  so  comic- 
and   ridiculous,   that  he  is  said  to  have  died  with 
tughing  at  it. 

ZIMMERMAN. 

686.  This  eminent  physician  went  from  Hanover  tp 
ttend  Frederick  the  Great  in  his  last  illness.  One  day 
ie  king  said  to  him,  '  You  have,  I  presume,  sir,  help- 
d  many  a  man  into  another  world.'     This  was  rather 

bitter  pill  for  the  doctor  ;  but  the  dose  he  g'-e  the 
ing  in  return  was  a  judicious  mixture  of  truth  and  flat- 
jry  :  '  Not  so  many  as  your  majesty,  nor  with  so  much 
onour  to  myself.' 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 


PART  II. 


insisting  of  Bon  Mots,  cKiefly  anonymous,  of  various 
descriptions,  Sublime,  Satirical,  Humorous,  &c,  &,c. 


THE  NORTHERN  PEASANT. 

187.  That  a  taste  for  the  sublime  and  beautiful  is 
confined  to  persons  of  cultivated  minds,  but  is  a 
d  of  universal  principle,  cannot  justly  be  denied. — 
;entleman  resident  among  the  mountains  of  Oumbf  r- 
d,  was  talking  to  a  peasant  of  the  eagles  that  used 
nfest  Borrowdale,  and  carry  off  poultry,  and  some- 
es  lambs.  '  It  is  true,'  said  the  peasant,  '  that  these 
Is  of  prey  did  us  some  damage,  but  I  am  sorry  they 

all  gone.'  '  Why  so  V  said  the  gentleman.  '  Be- 
se,'  replied  the  peasant, '  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  see 

agle, — '  it  is  such  a  noble  work  of  God  !' 

THE  SUBLIME  OF  AN  ARTIST. 

j 38-  Michael  Akgelo  was  extremely  disinterested, 
his  noble   design  of  the   church  of  St.  Peter  at 


68 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 


Rome,  he  received  only  twenty  five  Roman  crown 
and  it  was  finished  in  a  fortnight.  Santo  Gallo  ha1 
been  many  years  employed  in  his  wretched  mode) 
and  received  four  thousand  crowns  for  them.  Th 
being  reported  to  Angelo,  far  from  being  mortified  ( 
envious,  he  said,  '  I  work  for  God,  and  require  no  oth< 
recompense.' 

THE  SUBLIME  OF  BEGGING. 

If  nobleness  of  mind  constitutes  the  true  dignity 
man,  neither  his  mean  attire  nor  his  reduced  circun 
stances  can  diminish  his  intrinsic  worth.  We  canm 
fail  to  be  struck  with  an  uncommon  degree  of  admir 
tion,  when  we  hear  those  sentiments  expressed  by 
beggar,  which  would  exalt  the  character  even  ot 
monarch. 

689.  '  As  you  do  not  belong  to  my  parish,'  saidj 
gentleman  to  a  begging  sailor  with  a  wooden  leg,  * 
cannot  relieve  you.'  '  Sir,'  replied  the  sailor,  with  i 
air  of  heroism,  '  I  lost  my  leg  fighting  for  all  parishes. 

A  PROCLAMATION. 

690.  When  the  khan  of  Tartary,  who  lives  inacabii 
has  finished  his  noon-tide  meal,  which  consists  only 
milk  and   horse  flesh,   he   orders  proclamation  to  lj 
made  by  his  herald,  '  That  all  the  emperors  and  kin,| 
of  the  world  have  his  permission  to  go  to  dinner.' 

THE  SPANISH  CHARACTEPv. 

691.  The  Spaniards  are  marked  by  a  certain  gravi 
of  demeanour,  or  constitutional  phlegm,  which  assum 
the  appearance  of  pride.  It  is  not  merely  among  pe| 
sons  of  rank  and  fortune  that  this  hauteur  shows  itsel 
but  a  Spanish  tradesman,  and  even  a  mendicant,  pi 
serves  a  lofty  demeanour,  which  raises  him  above  1 
condition.  A  beggar  in  Madrid  solicited  alms  of  a  p« 
son,  who,  instead  of  relieving,  reproached  him  for  pi 
ferring  his  idle  way  of  life  to  active  and  useful  occuj 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  69 

on.  '  I  asked  you  for  your  money,  and  not  your  ad- 
ce,'  said  the  beggar  ;  and  turned  his  back  upon  his 
'tonitor,  with  the  scornful  air  of  a  genuine  Castilian. 

CLEOPATRA. 

692.  A  lady  to  whom  a  painter  had  promised  to  give 
e  best  picture  in  his  collection,  hit  upon  this  strata- 
2m  to  find  out  which  he  thought  so.  She  sent  a  mes- 
nger  to  the  painter,  when  he  was  from  home,  to  tell 
m  that  his  house  was  on  fire.  '  Take  care  then  of  my 
leopatra?  exclaimed  the  artist.  It  is  superfluous  to 
y  what  picture  the  lady  sent  for. 

FORTITUDE. 

693.  A  man  related  to  his  friend  the  whole  train  of 
s  misfortunes,  and  asked  him  what  he  would  have 
>ne  under  such  a  pressure.  '  I  should  have  put  an 
id  to  my  life,  like  a  hero,'  said  the  friend.  *  I  acted 
ill  more  like  a  hero,'  said  the  other,  '  for  I  had  the 
>urage  to  live  on.' 

MOTHER  WIT. 

694.  A  hunchback  of  Toulouse  met  a  man,  who  had 
it  one  eye,  very  early  in  the  morning.  '  Good  mor- 
w,  friend,'  said  the  one-eyed  man  ;  '  you  have  got 
•ur  load  upon  your  shoulders  very  early.'  'It  is  so 
rly,'  replied  the  hunchback,  '  that  I  see  you  have 
ly  one  window  open.' 

PUNCTUATION. 

695.  In  the  priory  of  Ramessa  there  dwelt  a  very 
ieral  prior,  who  caused  these  verses  to  be  written 
erhis  door: 

'  Be  open  evermore,  O  thou  ray  door, 
To  none  be  shut.. ..to  honest,  or  to  poor.' 


70  FLOWERS   OF   WIT. 

After  his  death  there  succeeded  another  prior,  ; 
covetous  as  h'*  predecessor  had  been  libera!,  who  kej 
the  same  verses  there  still,  changing  nothing  therein  bi 
one  point,  which  made  them  run  thus  : — 

'  Be  open  evermore,  O  thou  my  door, 
To  none,...  be  shut  to  honest, or  to  poor.* 

MODERN  GREEKS. 

696  The  remembrance  of  their  antient  glory  is  n< 
totally  extinct.  When  Mr.  Anson  (the  great  lord  A: 
son's  brother)  was  upon  his  travels  in  the  East,  he  hire 
a  vessel  to  visit  the  island  of  Tenedos.  His  pilot, 
old  Greek,  as  they  were  sailing  along,  said  with  gre 
glee,  *  There  it  was  that  our  fie.ti  lay.'  Mr.  Anw 
asked,  '  What  fleet  V  '  What  fleet  V  replied  the  q 
man  (a  little  piqued  at  the  question,)  *  why  our  Gr 
cian  fleet  at  the  siege  of  Troy.' 

GYGES>  RING. 

697.  It  is  said  of  the  magical  ring  of  Gyges,  that  i 
Jaaci  an  extraordinary  power  of  making  the  wearer 
visible.     A  person  being  asked  what  a  man  of  honoi! 
put  into  possession  of  such  a  ring,  would  do,  replie 
1  Just  the  same  as  he  would  do  without  it.' 

SHAKSPEARE  A  GOOD  COOK. 

098    Two  gentlemen  were  talking  in  a  caffee-hous 
of.  the  best  method  of  dressing  a  beefsteak.     One 
tbefli  observed,  that  of  all  receipts,  that  given  in  tl 
words  of  Macbeth,  when  he  deliberates  on  the  intends 
death  of  the  king,  is  the  best : 

1  If  i*  were  rfon^,  when  'tis  done,  then  'twere  wefl 
ft  were  done  quickly.' 


FLOWERS   OF    WIT.  71 

A  (fAMBLER. 

699.  '  No,'  said  an  Italian  gambler  after  an  intolera- 
e  run  of  ill  luck,  '  No,  thou  jade  Fortune,  thou  may- 
lit  indeed  cause  me  to  lose  thousands,  but  1  defy  thy 
most  power  to  make  me  pay  them.' 

RENCH  NEGATIVE  VICTORIES. 

700.  During  the  wars  between  England  and  France, 
the  time  ot  Queen  Anne,  it  was  the  constant  practice, 

though  the  duke  of  Marlborough  and  the  allies  gained 

nost  every  battle,  to  make  illuminations  at  Paris,  in 

der  to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  the  people.     Once  when 

English  had  totally  defeated   the  French,   and  a 

at  illumination   was   made  as   usual,   a   marshal  of 

nee  said,  '  The  French  people  are   like  flints,  the 

>re  you  strike  them,  the  more  fire  they  make.' 

A  NICE  DISTINCTION. 

701.  A  husband  whose  ears  were  constantly  assailed 
the  unruly  tongue  of  his  wife,  bore  the  sound  of  her 
essant  alarum  with  the  greatest  patience.  *  It  is 
y  clear,'  said  one  of  his  friends,  '  that  you  are  afraid 
your  wife.'  '  I  am  not  afraid  of  her,y  said  the  hus- 
id,  '  but  of  the  noise  she  makes.' 

WHAT  IS  MORNING  ? 

02.  '  Morning,'  said  captain  Grose,  {  like  noon 
[evening,  has  very  different  meanings  in  the  mouths 
lifferent  persons  in  different  places.  1  once  receiv- 
an  appointment  to  wait  upon  a  noble  lord  the  next 
•ning.  For  want  of  duly  considering  his  lordship's 
kand  amusements,  I  went  at  ten  o'clock  ;  but  after 
eking  full  half  an  hour,  was  convinced  by  a  sJip- 
1  and  gaping  footman,  that  morning  would  not  com- 
19 


72  FLd%ERS  OF    WIT. 

mence  in  that  house  till  some  toours  after  the  sun  h 
passed  the  meridian.5 

'On  a  similar  appointment  from  a  Welsh  squire, 
was  at  his  door  punctually  at  eight,  having  been  to; 
he  was  an  early  man  ;  but  judge  my  surprise,  wh 
his  servant  informed  me,  his  master  went  out  in  t 
morning.  On  inquiry,  I  found  morning  in  that  ho« 
did  not  reach  later  than  seven  o'clock.' 

THE  FASHIONABLE  DINNER  HOU] 

A.  D.  1813. 

703.  A  nobleman  invited  a  party  to  dine  ;  and 
company  assembled  about  seven  o'clock,  the  hour 
pointed,  and  waited  for  him  till  they  all  began  to  d 
cover  symptoms  of  ennui   and  oscitancy.     At  last 
noble  host  made  his  appearance,  coolly  looked  at 
watch,  and  ordered  dinner  ;  and  as  coolly  said,  addi 
sing  himself  to    the  half-famished   circle,  '  I  hope  3 
don't  think  me  late,  I  am  just  come  from  the  Ope 
where   I  only  staid  long  enough  to  hear  Catalani  s 
her  first  song  :   I  bad  a  great  mind  to  encore  the  chai' 
ing  creature  ;  but  it  is  disagreeable  to  make  one's  cc1 
pany  wait,  so  I  denied  myself  that  pleasure  on  yr 
account !' 

A  DESPERADO. 

704.  A  lady  was  followed  by  a  beggar  who  tea 
iier  very  much  to  give  him  alms.  On  her  refusing  h 
he  quitted  her  with  a  deep  sigh,  saying,  *  The  aln 
asked  would  have  prevented  me  from  executing 
present  resolution.'  The  lady  was  alarmed,  think1 
the  man  would  make  some  rash  attempt  upon  his  c 
life.  She  called  him  back,  and  gave  him  a  shillii 
and  asked  him  what  he  meant  by  what  he  had  s? 
'  Madam,' said  the  fellow,  'I  have  been  begging  all  < 
in  vain,  and  had  it  not  been  for  this  shilling,  1  shoi 
have  been  obliged  to  work.' 


m 

^.LOWERS    OF    WIT. 

WISDOM. 


73 


705.  Wise  men  say  nothing  in  dangerous  times. 
f-The  lion  called  the  sheep,  to  ask  her  if  his  breath 
bs  unpleasant  :  she  said  Aye  ;  and  he  bit  off  her  head 
[ra  fool.     He  called  the  wolf  and    asked   him  ;  he 

id  No  ;  he  tore  him  in  pieces  for  a  flatterer.  At 
st  he  called  the  fox,  and  asked  him  :  '  Truly,'  said 
e  fox,  '  I  have  caught  a  cold  and  cannot  smell.' 

FHE  IRISH  AND  ENGLISH  ROADS. 

706.  An  Englishman  asked  an  Irishman  if  the  roads 
Ireland  were  good.  '  Ye?,'  said  the  Irishman,  '  so 
eel  lent,  that  I  wonder  you  do  not  import  some  of  them 
to  England.  We  have  the  road  to  love  strewed  with 
ses  ;  the  road  of  matrimony  through  nettles  ;  the 
ad  of  honour  through  a  duel  ;  the  road  to  prision 
rough  the  courts  of  law  ;  and  the  road  to  the  under- 
Iter's  through  the  apothecary's  shop.'  '  Have  you 
y  road  to  preferment  ?'  '  No',  said  the  Irishman, 
lot  now — that  road,  since  the  Union,  is  removed  to 
igland  :  you  pass  through  it  to  the  king's  palace,  and 
am  told  it  is  the  dirtiest  road  in  Great  Britain.' 

A  STEWARD. 

707.  A  rich  nobleman  made  his  will,  and  left  hand- 
le legacies  to  all  his  domestics,  except  to  his  stew- 
J.    On  being  asked  the  reason  for   this  exception  : 

leave  him  out,'  said  he,  beause  he  has  been  in  my 
•vice  for  more  than  twenty  years.' 

THE  PHILOSOPHER'S  STONE. 

708.  An  alchymist  hearing  of  the  singular  merit  of  a 
ghbouring  philosopher,  took  an  opportunity  of  pay- 

him  a  visit ;  and  expressed  no  small  surprise  at  the 
ill  house  and  plain  manner  in  which  he  lived.  Whata 
grace,'  said  he,  'is  it  to  the  opulent  of  this  country, 


74  FLOWERS    OF  WIT. 

that  a  person  of  your  rare  virtie  should  be  compellei 
to  live  under  this  humble  roof,  and  submit  to  so  man 
privations  !  But  courage,  my  friend!  I  am  comet 
make  amends  to  3rou  for  the  cruelty  of  fortune  :  I  pos 
sess  an  invaluable  secret,  and  upon  certain  conditions 
will  impart  it  toyou.  In  short,  I  have  discovered  th 
philosopher's  stone.  By  the  transmutation  of  metal; 
I  doubt  not  we  shall  divide  more  gold  than  is  to  b 
found  in  the  coffers  of  his  holiness  the  pope,  or  th 
grand  signior.'  'I  thank  you,'  replied  the  philost 
pher;  'but  your  offer  comes  too  late,  and  indeed  is  to  m 
of  no  comparative  value.  I  have  long  enjoyed  a  soun 
constitution  and  a  tranquil  mind,  and  have  prudenc 
enough  to  be  content  with  the  little  1  have.  These  ar 
possessions  which  all  your  gold  cannot  purchase  ;  an 
so  I  think  you  are  under  a  mistake — /,  not  you,  hav 
discovered  the  philosopher's  stone.' 

SIR  JOHN  CUTLER. 

709.  He  was  well  known  as  a  complete  miser.  H; 
boasted  that  Providence  bad  showed  him  peculia. 
favour,  in  causing  his  nativity  on  the  29  th  of  February 
so  that   he  had  but  one  birthday  to  keep  in  four  yearj, 

A  PHYSICIAN. 

710.  A  certain  physician,  when  he  visited  his  rici 
and  luxurious  patients,  always  went  into  their  kitchen* 
and  shook  hands  with  their  cooks.  'My  good  friends' 
said  he  'I  owe  you  much,  for  you  confer  great  favour 
upon  me^  Your  skill,  and  your  ingenious  and  palatabli 
art  of  poisoning,  enables  us  medical  men  to  ride  il 
our  carriages  ;  without  your  assistance,  we  should  a 
go  on  foot  and  be  starved.' 

AN  EASTERN  PHILOSOPHER. 

711.  Pride  often  keeps  us  in  ignorance,  by  the  n 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  <0 

raint  which  it  imposes  upon  our  minds.  An  Eastern 
hiio'Ophe r  being:  asked  by  what  means  he  Wad  ac- 
nred  so  much  knowledge,  answered ;  lI  wa&  never 
revented  by  shame  from  asking  questions.' 

MY  FATHER'S  DEATH. 

712.  One  being  at  supper  said  to  his  comrade,  'You 
ard  the  discourse  of  my  father's  death,  let  me  en- 
-;at  you  to  tell  me  how  your  father  died  !'  He,  being 
ry  intent  on  a  dainty  morsel,  answered,  '  Suddenly, 
ddenly.'     [London  Jests,  1712.] 

This  jest  has  been  attributed  to  Tom  Warton. 

PROFESSIONAL  MEN. 

Men  in  general,  and  particularly  professional  men, 
;w  objects  through  the  media  of  their  own  pursuits, 
d  express  themselves  accordingly. 

713.  A  gentleman  was  thrown  from  a  very  restive 
rse  in  Hyde  Park,  and  had  the  misfortune  to  break 
;  of  his  legs.  A  crowd  instantly  collected  around 
n,  in  which  were  a  riding-master,  a  painter,  a  math- 
atician,  a  lawyer,  and  a  clergyman.  '  If  this  unfor- 
late  man,'  said  the  riding-master,  'had  taken  a  few 
sons  in  my  school,  that  accident  would  not  have  hap- 
ied.'  '  How  finely  the  figure  was  fore-shortened  in 
ing !'  said  the  painter.  k  He  made  a  parabolic 
ve,'  said  the  mathematician.  '  It  is  a  hundred  to 
,'  said  the  lawyer,  '  if  he  has  made  his  will.'  'Run 
a  surgeon,'  said  the  clergyman,  '  and  let  us  assist 
poor  man  in  getting  home.' 

RECOLLECTION. 

14.  A  noble  lord  once  asked  a  clergyman,  who 
dining  at  the  bottom  of  the  table,  why  the  goose 
always  placed  next  the  parson.     '  Really,'  said  he, 

:an  give  no  reason  for  it :  but  your  question  is  s0 
19* 


76  floweYis  of  wit. 

odd,  that  I  shall  never  see  a  goose  again  without  thin 
ingof  your  lordship.' 

LOUIS  XII. 

715.  He  one  day  reproached  a  prelate  with  the  lu 
ury  of  his  manner  of  living,  and  told  him  that  the  cle 
gy  did  not  live  so  splendidly  in  the  early  ages.  '  N 
sir,'  replied  the  prelate,  '  not  in  the  time  of  the  8hq 
herd  kings. 

THE  CONTENTED  HIBERNIAN. 

716.  The  tempers  of  the  English  and  the  Irish  a; 
strongly  contrasted.  The  former  is  reserved,  gloom; 
and  serious  ;  the  latter  is  lively  and  gay,  and  express') 
his  thoughts  in  an  animated  and  figurative  style  pea 
liar  to  himself. — An  Englishman  in  company  with  i 
Hibernian  indulged  his  propensity  to  croaking,  h 
complaining  of  the  badness  of  the  weather,  and  tb 
unpleasant  piace  where  he  resided.  The  Hiberniai 
declined  arguing  with  him  on  the  folly  of  his  murmur 
but  held  out  to  him  a  picture  of  his  own  contentednes 
*  When  I  have  a  hat  on  my  head,'  said  he,  '  my  houst 
is  thatched  ;  when  I  have  had  a  dinner,  my  house 
furnished  :  as  for  weather,  I  care  not  if  it  rains  or  shine: 
as  for  place,  I  am  at  home  either  in  London  or  Londoi 
derry  :  so  hurrah  !  may  the  shamrock,  and  Erin  tb' 
little  island  of  saints  and  liberty,  flourish  for  ever  !' 

A  KICKING  HORSE. 

717.  A  joke  cannot  have  a  happier  effect  than  t 
dispel  ill-humour  and  make  a  friend.  Such  was  the  n 
suit  of  an  accidental  meeting  between  a  stranger  and: 
crusty  old  gentleman,  who  as  he  was  riding,  his  hors' 
made  an  odd  kind  of  motion  with  his  fore-feet,  so  as  I 
kick  forward.  '  This  action  of  your  horse,'  cried  tb 
stranger,  '  is  quite  new  to  me  :    many  a  horse  have 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  77 

bf»;    but  I  never  saw  a  horse  kick  before.''    The  old 
ntleman  was  so  tickled  with  the  pun,  that  he  mvited 
stranger  to  dinner,  and  ever  after  made  IiiiA  wcl- 
|ne  guest.  ^ 

QUAKERS. 

718.  An  address  of  the  Quakers  to  James  II.  on  his 
e^sion,  preserved  in  Waniey's  Common-piace  Book, 

lighly  characteristic  of  that  shrewd  sect.  'We  come 
ondole  the  death  of  our  friend  Charles  ;  and  we  are 

d  that  thou  art  come  to  be  our  ruler.     We  hear  that 

u  art  a  dissenter  from  the  church  of  England,  and  so 
we.     We  beg  that  thou  wouldst  grant  us  the  s?me 

jrty  that  thou  takest  thyself,  and  so  we  wish  thee 

1.     Farewell.'     [Harl.  MS.  6030.] 

EXPERIMENTS. 

verbal  critic,  such  as  '  slashing  Bently,'  who  with 
/erted  ingenuity  tortured  the  text  of  Milton,  and 
le  it  speak  a  new  and  strange  language,  has  no  re- 
for  authors,  either  ancient  or  modern,  unless  he  can 
over  passages  in  them  upon  which  he  can  try  ex- 
ments. 

19.  A  noted  oculist  was  in  a  room  crowded  with 
pany,  and  was  asked  what  he  thought  of  such  a  lady 
as  it  not  a  pity  that  she  squinted  ?  '  Squint,  sir  !' 
ied  the  infallible  doctor  ;  '  I  wish  every  lady  in  the 
fl  did  the  same  ;  there  is  not,  I  assure  you,  a  man  in 
jpe  can  cure  squinting  but  myself.' 

A  TRUE  GHOST. 

JO.  A  credulous  clown  went  to  the  clergyman  of 
>arish,  and  told  him  with  great  symptoms  of  con- 
•ation,  that  he  had  seen  a  ghost,  k  Where  did  you 
t  V  was  the  question  :  'Why,'  said  Diggory,  '  as 
re  going,  and  please  your  reverence,  by  the  church, 


78  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

right  ud  against  the  wall,  I  sees  the  ghost.'  '  In  wl 
shape  fnd  it  appear  V  '  For  all  the  world  like  a  gr 
ass.  Mkp  home  and  hold  your  tonguf-,'  said  the  clert 
man,  yfr  you  are  a  very  timid  creature,  and  have  01 
been  frightened  by  your  own  shadow.' 

DOMESTIC  EXAMPLE. 

1 

721.  How  unreasonable  is  it  for  mothers  to  exp 
their  daughters  will  tread  with  undeviating  steps  in  I 
paths  of  virtue,  if  they  do  not   lead  them  the  way 

Madame  B reprimanded  her  daughter  on  disc< 

ering  that  she  had  several  private  interviews  with  I 
lover  ;  and  ended  her  lecture  by  threatening  to  shut  1 
up  in  a  convent.  '  I  shall  have  no  objection.'  said  I 
sarcastic  youn<*  lady,  '  if  you  will  allow  your  handsor 
footman  to  wait  upon  me  there.' 

LOQUACITY. 

The  historian  Gibbon  and  the  abbe  Raynal  were 
markable  for  their  loquacity.     The  tongue  of  each  i 
a  perpetual  alarum.     For  such  encroachments  upon  i 
colloquial  rights  and  privileges  of  others,  the  follow: 
is  a  very  ingenious  apology  : — 

722.  A  Gascon  gentleman  was  reproached  by  one 
his  friends  for  monopolising  conversation,  and  never  1 
tening  to  any  one.  '  Do  you  think,'  said  he  in  his  NJ 
dication,  'that  I  am  not  attentive  to  what  you  and  oth 
think?  Undecei\e  yourself;  while  I  am  speaking  m 
my  tongue,  I  am  listening  with  my  eyes  I  can  $ 
persuasion  in  the  looks,  better  than  it  can  be  express 
by  words, — to  save  you  trouble  and  breath,  I  give  y 
before-hand  a  reply  to  every  meditated  objecton.  j 
enjoy  the  anticipation  of  eloquence,  as  much  as  1  dc 

aste  fruits  ripe  before  their  usual  season.' 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  70 

MATERNAL  LOVE. 

[723.  Titf.  wife  of  a  noble  Venetian,  having^y tries 
Jl  the  death  of  her  only  son,  gave  herself  inwo  the 
st  violent  grief.  A  priest  endeavoured  to  console 
• :  'Recollect/  said  he,  'the  case  of  Abraham,  whom 
d  commanded  to-piunge  his  knife  into  the  bosom  of 
i  only  son,  and  he  was  ready  to  obey  without  a  mur- 
r.'  '  Ah  !  my  good  friend,'  she  replied,  '  God  gave 
5  command  to  a  father — he  would  not  have  required 
h  a  sacrifice  from  a  mother.'' 

724.  On   Women.     By  Mrs.  Hosland. 

3  are  stars  of  the  night,  ye  are  gems  of  the  morn, 
are  dew-drops  whose  lustre  illumines  the  thorn  ; 

rayless  that  night  is,  that  morning  unblest, 
ere  no  beam  in  your  eye    lights  up  peace   in  the 

breast, 

1  the  sharp  thorn  ef  sorrow  sinks  deep  in  the  heart* 
I  the  sweet  lip  of  woman  assuages  the  smart  : 

hers  o'er  the  couch  of  misfortune  to  bend, 
mdness  a  lover,  in  firmness  a  friend  ; 

prosperity's  hour,  be  it  ever  contest, 
m  woman  receives  both  refinement  and  zest  ; 
adorn'd  by  the    bays,    or  enwreath'd  with   the 

willow, 

smile  is  our  meed,  and  her  bosona  our  pillow.' 

!5.  The  following  rhyme  was  often  quoted  b}~ 
,n  Swift  :  '  A  pigeon,  a  plover,  a  pig,  and  a  lover, 
ild  never  be  cold. 


NAIVETE. 

he  English  language  has  no  word  to  express  the 
s  which  this  word  conveys.  It  neither  means  sim- 
ty  only,  nor  freedom  only,  nor  ignorance  only  :  but 
'times  combines  all  these  ideas  together,  in  so  corn- 
manner  as  cannot  fail  to  cause  a  smile  or  a  laugh- 


80  FLOWERS    OP    WIT. 


^     726^A 

^  Passa^, 
timesA{ 
cases.^a 


726^  A  gentleman  crossing  the  Severn  at  the  0 
Passat,  asked  the  waterman  if  accidents  did  not  soon 
timesifcppen  by  the  boats  being  upset  ;  '  and  in  su 
cases^nsaid  he, '  persons  must  be  often  lost.'  '  O  n 
said  one  of  the  watermen,  '  they  are  seldom  lost : 
To  be  sure  my  brother  was  drowned  here  not  long  a| 
but  we  found  him  again  a  day  or  two  after.' 


727.  A  countryman  very  frequently  called  tfp 
Huet  bishop  of  Avranches,  a  scholar  remarkable 
the  assiduity  with  which  he  pursued  his  studies, 
though  the  countryman  went  to  him  upon  particu 
business,  he  was  always  repulsed,  with  the  answer  (I 
his  lordship  was  employed  in  his  library.  '  I  wish,'  s; 
the  indignant  rustic,  '  that  the  king  would  send  us 
bishop  who  has  finished  his  studies.' 

728.  Susan,  a  country  girl  desirous  of  matrimoi 
received  from  her  mistress  a  present  of  a  five  poi 
Bank  note  for  her  marri-ge  portion.  Her  mistr 
wished  to  see  the  object  of  Susan'"  favour  ;  and  a  vi 
diminutive  fellow,  swarthy  as  a  Moor  and  ugly  as 
ape,  made  his  appearance.  '  Ah  Susan,'  said  her  rr 
tress,  '  what  a  strange  choice  you  have  made  !'  '  1 
ma'am,'  said  Susan,  in  such  hard  times  as  these,  wll 
almost  all  the  tall  fellows  are  gone  for  soldiers,  wli 
more  of  a  man  than  this  can  you  expect  for  a  five-pou 
Bote  V 

LONG  AND  SHORT  TAILS. 


729.  A  person  asked  a  farmer  what  he  must  g 
him  to  take  his  horses  to  grass.  '  Why,'  said  the  f 
mer,  for  '  long-tailed  horses  four  shillings,  and  forbc 
tails  six,  per  week.'  The  person  wonrtered  at  the  difl 
ence  of  the  charge,  which  the  farmer  at  his  desire  < 
plained.  '  The  reason  is  this  :  In  the  hot  weather  i 
long-tails  are  so  busy  in  switching  the  flies,  that  tfc 
have  not  time  to  eat  so  much  as  the  others  ;  but  I 
bobtails  have  nothing  else  to  do.' 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  81 

A  FRENCH  LOVER. 

* 

r30.  A  voung  lady  of  Languedoc,  of  a  kind  anjLingen- 
ius  temper,  was  courted  by  a  petit  rnaitre  W Paris, 
ter  an  absence  of  three  months,  she  met  him  acciden- 
lly  in  the  street,  dressed  much  to  his  own  satisfaction 
a  new  peruke  well  powdered,  as  was  then  the  fash- 
n.  Just  as  she  began  to  express  her  joy  at  seeing 
m,  a  shower  of  rain  came  on  ;  at  which  her  Narcis- 
s  discovered  symptoms  of  great  uneasiness  ;  and  in- 
?ad  of  expressing  himself  in  a  manner  correspondent 
her  tender  salutation,  he  began  to  run  for  shelter. 
Vhat!'  cried  the  indignant  fair  one, '  have  we  been 
ree  long  months  absent  from  each  other,  do  you  still 
ve  me,  do  you  enjoy  my  company,  and  is  it  possible 
u  can  think  of  your  wig  being  spoiled  by  a  (ew  drops 
rain  V 

This  anecdote  which  exhibits  the  levity  and  frivol- 
sness  of  the  French  character,  is  taken  from  a  work 
ce  very  popular  in  France,  called  the  Gasconiana, 
>pies  are  now  very  scarce. 

A  SPANISH  OFFICER. 

731.  It  was  the  remark   of  a  Spanish  officer,  *  that 
French  soldiers  at  the  first  onset  in  battle  are  more 

m  men,  but  after  it  are  less  than  women.' 

AN  ADDITIONAL  REMARK. 

732.  In  a  conversation  between  two  friends,  one 
d  to  the  other,  '  I  have  a  remark  to  make  to  you, 
ich  affects  me  much.'  '  What  is  that  ?'  k  It  is,  that  I 
iyou  grow  old.  But,'  he  continued, '  I  have  an  ad- 
ional  remark  to  make,  which  affects  me  still  more.' 
md  pray  what  is  that  ?'  'Why,'  said  he,  'I  find  I 
)vv  old  too.' 

A  FACTOTUM. 

f33.  A  vapouring  colonel  of  one  of  the  City  volun- 
r  regiments,  was  complaining  in  a  very  self-sufficient 


82  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

manner,  that  in  consequence  of  the  great  nf  glige 
of  his  officers,  he  was  obliged  to  do  their  duty,  as  v 
as  his^wn.  '  I  am,'  said  he,  '  my  own  captain,  my  ( 
paymaster,  and  my  own  ensign.'  'You  may  add,'  || 
a  gentleman  who  knew  his  character  well,  *  your 
trumpeter.' 

REQUITED  LOVE. 

734.  What  words  can  be  more  delightful  to  the 
man  ear,  than  the  unexpected  effusions  of  ,genero< 
and  affection  from  a  beloved  woman  !  A  young  genl 
man  after  great  misfortunes  came  to  a  lady  he  had  1< 
courted,  and  told  her  his  circumstances  were  becc 
so  reduced,  that  he  actually  wanted  five  guineas, 
am  very  glad  to  hear  it,'  said  she.  *  Is  this  your  affect 
for  me  !'  he  replied  in  a  tone  of  despondency.  *  W 
are  you  glad  ?  k  Because,  she  answered,  '  if  you  w 
five  guineas,  I  can  put  you  in  possession  of  five  thi 
sand.' 

735.  Imitated  from  the  Persian.     By  Mr.  Weston. 

*  The  pure  unsullied  glass,  with  faithful  grace, 
Reflects  the  image  of  my  Laura's  face  ; 
And  what  for  all  the  fair  it  cannot  do, 
Reflects  the  image  of  her  temper  too.' 

RETALIATION. 

It  is  gratifying  to  observe,  that  the   blow  given 
the  insolent  and  reproachful  is  sometimes  returned  p 
double  force. 

736.  An  extravagant  nobleman,  soon  after  he  h 
sold  an  estate  upon  which  there  were  a  hundred  tei 
ments,  appeared  at  the  court  of  Henry  VIII.  in  co 
\y  new  clothes.  '  Am  1  not,'  said  he  jocosely, '  a  vc 
strong  man,  to  carry  a  hundred  houses  upon  mvbacl 
Cardinal  VVolsey  hearing  this  speech,  said,  '  The  n 
n<?y  you  got  for  your  houses  would  have   been  bet 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  83 

fnployed  in  paying  your  debts.'  '  Thank  you,  my 
rd  cardinal,'  said  the  nobleman,  '  for  the  hint  ;  and 
give  you  a  proof  you  have  not  thrown  it  away,  here 
•e  two  pence  for  you  ;  three  halfpence  for  ti  calf's 
iad  which  the  lord  my  father  bought  of  your  father, 
s  butcher,  and  the  other  halfpenny  I  pay  for  your 
nd  advice.' 

PRAISE  IS  CHEAP. 

37.  Louis  XIV.  commended  an  indifferent  orator, 
lady  who  was  present  expressed  much  surprise  on 
a  ring  the  king  speak  in  such  terms  of  praise.  '  My 
inion  of  the  orator,  madam,'  said  Louis,  '  does  not 
uch  differ  from  yours  ;  but  if  i  think  a  few  compli- 
ents  can  make  a  person  happy,  I  must  be  ill-natured 
the  extreme  not  to  bestow  them. 

THE  POWER  OF  NAMES. 

738.  In  a  large  company  in  Ireland,  a  young  office, 
ose  fondness  for  quizzing  was  increased  by  taking 

much  juice  of  the  grape,  gave  a  loose  to  his  tongue, 
i  even  proceeded  to  abuse  several  of  the  party  in 
rilous  and  gross  terms.  None  of  them  for  some  time 
Lre  disposed  to  check  his  career,  although  all  felt  a 
sh  to  do  so.  At  last  a  gentleman  of  stout  dimensions 
i  a  powerful  voice  stepped  forward,  and  measuring 

military  impertinent  from  head  to  foot  with  indig- 
lt  eyes  ;  '  1  am  sorry,  sir,'  said  he,  '  to  find  you  thus 
grace  the  livery  of  the  king,  which  was  bestowed 
you  for  better  purposes  than  to  insult  his  subjects. 
I  be  brief,  your  language  and  manners  prove  you  to 
unworthy  of  the  name  of  a  gentleman. — You  look 
rry  at  my  freedom  :  you  are  welcome  to  do  so.  Here 
ny  card  of  address  ;  and  if  you  choose  to  take  as 
insult  what  1  only  mean  as  a  reprimand, — I  am  your 
n  for  a  round  in  the  Hhcenix  park  ;  and  know  vour 
I  to  be  Patrick  Mac  Mitrdo  0  F!a?wagan.'  This 
I  l-he  name  of  a  well-known  knight  of  fhjfi  trigger. 


84  FLOWERS   OF    WIT. 

who  had  fought  several  duels.  This  name,  pronounc 
in  a  thundering  tone  seemed  to  convey  a  bullet  in  ev 
ry  letter  of  it,  had  such  an  effect  upon  the  young  qu 
zer  as  fbmpletely  to  sober  him,  and  he  instantly  qu 
terl  the  room  with  that  prudent  velocity  which  imp 
led  Gil  Bias  to  decamp  for  fear  of  the  bravo  of  Sa: 
gossa. 

A  DANCING  MASTER. 

739.  A   French    dancing-master  asked   one  of 
friends,  if  it  was  true  that  Harley  earl  of  Oxford  v 
made  lord  high  treasurer  of  England.     He   was 
swered  in  the  affirmative.    '  I  am  astonished,'  said 
dancing  master, '  that  the  queen  should  advance  hirr 
such  an  high  office  ;  for,  will  you   believe  it  ?  he  \ 
my  scholar  for   three  whole  years,  and  1  could  ma 
nothing  of  him.' 

'  MERRY  PASSAGES  AND  JESTS.' 

This  is  the  title  of  an  unpublished  manuscript  p 
served  in  the  British  museum.     [Cotton,  No.  6391 
The  aulhor  was   nephew  to  sir  Roger  le  Strange! 
The  following  specimens  are  judged  to  be  some  of 
best. 

Oxford  Scholars  outwitted 

740. '  Some  jovial]  scholars  at  Oxford  going  to  an  ill 
to  froiicke,  (but  pennilesse,)  when  they  had  well  wan 
their  brains  with  clarett,  call'd  in  mine  host  foi 
parting  cuppe,  and  fell  into  a  long  and  a  det 
discourse  about  the  Platonicall  revolution,  mi 
inculcating  the  point  into  mine  host  (who  seei 
to  relish  it  pretty  well,)  and  directing  their  spe 
often  to  him  :  But,  says  he,  1  doe  not  yet  conce 
whether  all  this  discourse  should  tend.  Why,  s; 
thejvfhe  morall  of  it  is  this  :  The  reckoning  is  gn 
and  we  have  not  one  farthing  about  us,  therefore  I 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  85 

iust  needs  crave  your  patience  until  this  time  1000 
eares,  when  we  shall  be  all  here  just  as  we  are  now 
9  we  have  by  our  conference  made  it  very  evident 
you  ;)  you  in  your  chair,  with  that  very  nose  and 
idly,  and  your  tapster  there  with  his  blew  apron. 
1  Gentlemen,  says  he,  I  would  willingly  satisfye  you 
any  reasonable  courtesie,  but  here  are  two  maine  ob- 
acles  :  first,  you  confess  you  shall  all  be  here  this 
me  1000  yeares,  punctually  in  every  circumstance  as 
^u  are  now  ;  without  money,  then  necessarily  :  but 
asides,  says  mine  host,  I  doe  very  well  remember, 
lat  ye  were  here  this  time  1000  yeares,  and  left  a 
core  unpaid  ;  discharge  that  first,  and  then  I'll  trust 
ou  for  the  next. 

741.  A  faulconer  of  sir  Robert  Mordant's  not  well 
nowing  his  dog's  names,  called  one  of  them  Cinque, 
hose  name  was  Sice ;  and  my  cousin  Harry  Mordant 
iling  him  his  error, '  Faith,  sir,'  says  he,  'twas  well  I 

ame  so  near,  1  am  sure  1  was  within  an  ace  on't.' 

742.  King  James  mounted  his  horse  one  time,  who 
>rmer!y  used  to  be  very  sober  and  quiet,  but  then  be- 
an to  bound  and  prance.     *  The  Dele  O  my  sol,  sir- 

h,'  =ayes  he, '  an  you  be  not  quiet,  I'se  send  you  to  the 
30  kings  in  the  house  of  commons  :  they'le  quickly 
me  you.' 

743.  A  lady  tendered  a  dish  of  fruite  to  a  gentleman 
t  the   table,  with    this  compliment  :  '  Sir.  this  is  not 

rbidden  fruite,  if  you  please  to  eate.'  '  Lady,'  says 
>,  '  by  one  sign  infallibly  it  should,  for  I  see  it  comes 
lit  just  now  from  paradise.' 

A  GIG. 

44.  A  celebrated  surgeon  was  called  upon  by  a 
?ntleman  to  attend  a  friend  in  the  country.  The  aren- 
eman  offered  to  carry  him  to  the  place. — '  By  what 
Hiveyance  ?'  '  I  will  take  you  down  in  my  gig-'  '  I 
n  much  obliged  to  you,'   said  the   wary  disciple  of 


86  "FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

Esculapius,  but  I    decline  37our  offer,  as  I  have  at  th 
time  half  a  dozen  gig  patients  under  my  care.' 


METAPHYSICS. 


ers 


745.  After  all  the  advances  in  the  science  of 
aph)sics,  so  much  boasted  of  in  the  Scotch  unive 
ties,  it  is  not  clear  that  the  improvements  in  it  ha\ 
been  such  as  to  render  obsolete  the  simple  descriplic 
of  the  blacksmith  of  Glammis  :  Tvva  fouk  disputin  th; 
gither  ;  he  that's  listenin  disna  ken  what  he  that 
speakin  means  ;  and  he  that's  speakin  disna  ken  wh< 
he  means  himself— that's  Metaphysics-' 

A  PAIR  OF  SPECTACLES. 

746.  *  Madam,'  said  the  keeper  at  the  gate  of  Kei; 
*  sington  gardens,  '  I  cannot  permit  you  to  take  yoi 

dog  into  the  garden.'  *  Don't  you  see,  my  good  friend 
said  the  lady,  putting  a  couple  of  shillings  into  th 
keeper's  hand,  '  that  it  is  a  cat,  and  not  a  dog 
k  Madam,'  said  the  keeper,  instantly  softening  the  tor 
of  his  voice,  '  I  beg  your  pardon  for  my  mistake 
now  see  clearly,  by  the  aid  of  the  pair  of  spectacles  yo 
have  been  so  good  as  to  give  me,  that  it  is  a  cat,  an 
not  a  dog.' 

AMERICANS. 

747.  The  Americans  are  so  inquisitive,  that  Di 
Franklin  tells  us,  when  he  travelled  in  America,  an 
wished  to  ask  his  road,  he  found  it  necessary  to  sav 
time  by  prefacing  his  questions  with, — 'My  name  i 
Benjamin  Franklin,  1  am  by  trade  a  printer,  I  am  com* 
from  such  a  place,  and  am  going  to  such  a  place  ;  an 
now  tell  me  which  is  my  road  ?' 

748.  An  English  captain  hailed  an  American  vesse' 
and  asked  what  she  was  laden  with.  The  maste 
wishing  to  set  off  his  cargo  to  the  greatest  advantage 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  87 

iswered,  with  a  flourish  of  Bostonian  rhetoric,  '  Fruit 
id  timber.'  The  fact  was,  the  cargo  consisted  ot 
Dtatoes  and  broomsticks. 

A  CONTRACTED  NOTION. 

749.  c  If  you  have  not  the  use  of  our  letters,  and 
e  knowledge  of  our  books,'  said  a  Chinese  mandarin 

an  European  missionary,  '  what  literature  or  what 
jience  can  you  have  ?' 

AN  IMPOSITION. 

750.  Dr.  Bentham,  formerly  divinity  professor  in 
xford,  gave  an    imposition  to  a  young  student,   who 

jell  knew  that  the  doctor's  avarice  extended  even  to 
Is  stable.  The  following  were  the  subject  of  the  im- 
>sition,  and  the  verses  written  upon  it  : — 

'  Omni  ignolum  pro  magnifico  es/.' 

'  Averse  to  pamper'd  and  high  mettled  steeds, 
His  own  upon  chopt  straw  Avaro  feeds  ; 
Bred  in  his  stable,  in  his  paddock  horn, 
What  vast  ideas  they  must  have  of  corn!' 

WHISTLING. 

751.  The  lady  of  Dr.  Bentham  was  a  woman  of  a 
sposition  congenial  with  that  of  her  caro  spnso.  She 
ked  a  person  who  applied  for  the  place  ot  footman  in 
tr  family,  if  he  could  whistle,    '  Why  is  that  necessa- 

?'  said  the  man.  '  Because,'  said  the  lady,  '  I  ex- 
sct  my  footman  to  whistle  all  the  time  he  is  in  the 
liar,  to  be  certain  he  is  not  drinking  while  he  is 
ere.' 

MNEMONICS. 

752.  A  person  read  lectures  in  London,  and  profes- 
20"* 


88  FLOWERS    OK    WIT. 

sed  to  teach  the  art  of  acquiring  a  good  memory.  Th 
first  thing,  he  said,  that  was  necessary,  was,  to  reco 
lect  what  you  bad  seen,  or  heard,  or  read.  '  This  rule 
a  wag  who  was  present  observed,  '  reminds  me  of  Mr 
Glasse's  receipt  to  roast  a  hare  :  '  First  catch  a  hare.' 

THE  METEMPSYCHOSIS. 

753.  In  a  certain  company  they  talked  much  of  th 
metempsychosis,  or  transmigration  of  souls.  A  coj 
comb,  who  had  teased  every  one  with  his  impertinei 
discourse,  said,  '  I  remember  perfectly  well  that  in  tfa 
time  of  Moses  I  was  the  golden  calf.'  '  This  is  ver 
probable,'  said  a  lady  ;  '  foryou  now  retain  a  very  stron 
likeness  to  that  animal,  and  have  lost  nothing  but  th 
gilding.' 

SENSIBILITY. 

754.  A  lady  who  made  pretensions  to  the  most  re 
fined  feelings,  went  to  her  butcher  to  remonstrate  wit 
him  on  his  cruel  practices.  '  How,"  said  she,  '  can  yo 
be  so  barbarous,  as  to  put  innocent  little  lambs  t; 
death  ?'  '  Why  not  ?  madam,'  said  the  butcher  ;  "jJH 
would  not  eat  them  alive,  would  you  ?' 

A  RECEIPT  TO  FILL  A  NEWSPAPER 

755.  His  printer  came  running  to  the  publisher  of 
newspaper,  and  said,  '  Sir,  we  have  a  space  in  the  pa 
per  which  we  don't  know  how  to  fill.'  'Nothing  i 
easier,'  said  the  publisher  :  insert  that  '  last  night  a 
elderly  gentleman,  walking  through  St.  James's  park 
was  knocked  down  by  two  ruffians,  and  robbed  oi  hi 
money  and  his  gold-headed  cane.'  The  printer  sooj 
after  came  back  again,  and  told  his  master  there  wen 
several  words  too  many.—  '  Why  then,'  said  the  pub 
lisher,  'you  may  leave  out  the  gold-headed  cane.' 


BLOWERS    OF    WIT.  89 

THE  ENERGY  OF  WORDS. 

756.  Two  or  three  words  sometimes  paint  a  charac- 
r  better  than  whole  volumes.     The  cardinal  de  ^aint 

cile  thus  spoke  of  his  brother,  the  famous  cardinal 
azarin.  '  My  brother  is  a  coward  ;  only  make  a 
ise,  and  you'll  frighten  him  to  death.' 

BOTANY  BAY. 

757.  Some  years  ago,  one  of  the  convicts  in  Botany 
:y  wrote  a  farce,  which  was  acted  with  great  applause 
the  theatre  in  Port  Jackson.  The  noted  Harrington 
■nished  the  prologue,  which  he  ended  with  these 
es  : — 

*  True  patriots  we  ;  for  be  it  understood, 
We  left  our  country, ....for  our  country's  good.' 

A  PUFF  DIRECT. 

r58.  An  itinerant  pedlar,  wishing  to  recommend  his 
ors  to  the  gaping  crowd,  thus  addressed  them  : — 
entlemen,  the  razors  I  hold  in  my  hand  were  made 
i  cave  by  the  light  of  a  diamond  in  the  famous  pro- 
ce  of  Andalusia  in  Spain.  They  cut  as  quick  as 
ught,  and  are  as  bright  as  the  morning-star.  A  word 
two  more,  and  I  am  certain  you  will  buy  them.  Lay 
m  under  your  pillow  at  night,  and  you  will  find  your- 
f  clean  shaved  when  you  wake  in  the  morning.' 

THE  ITALIAN  VINEYARD-MAN. 

'59.  Per  mancamento  d?  acqua  bevo  del  acqua ;  se  io 
?sse  acqua,  beveri  el  vino.  k  For  want  of  water  I 
forced  to  drink    water  ;    if  1  had  water,   I  would 

lk  wine.''     This  speech  is  a  riddle,  and  here  is  the 

ition  :  It  was  the  complaint  of  an  Italian  vineyard- 
after  a  long  drought,  and  an  extremely  hot  sum- 

*,  that  had  parched  up  all  his  grapes. 


90  FLOWERS  OF  WIT- 

THE  INCOMPARABLE  RUSSIAN 

Surely  there  are  speeches  which,  as  they  exprcj 
the  feelings  of  a  benevolent  heart,  and  convey  the  sc 
timents  of  a  noble  mind,  are  to  be  estimated- far  abc 
the  merit  and  the  praise  of  wit.  The  following  anc 
dote  will  illustrate  this  observation  ; — 

760.  In  the  summer  of  the  year  1810,  as  a  lady  v 
walking  with  her  child  upon  the  banks  of  the  canal 
St.  Catharine  at  Petersburg,  the  child  suddenly  slipp 
from  her  hand,  and  fell  into  the  canal.  The  mother 
despair  was  going  to  plunge  after  her  child,  when 
young  man  prevented  her,  and  promised  her  instant 
sistance.  He  took  a  fine  large  spaniel  that  follow 
him,  and  throw  him  into  the  water,  calling  out  as  lo 
as  he  could,  Bring  him,  bring  him.  The  sagack 
dog  instantly  dived  ;  and  when  he  came  up  again,  v 
seen  holding  the  child  by  the  shirt  collar  :  he  quid 
swam  to  the  shore,  and  laid  his  precious  burthen  gen 
down  at  the  feet  of  the  mother.  She,  in  an  ecstacy 
joy,  took  the  child  in  her  arms,  and  divided  her  can 
ses  between  him  and  the  dog.  The  father  of  the  ch 
appeared  :  *  I  return  you,  sir,'  said  he  to  the  youi 
man,  '  a  thousand  thanks  ;  you  have  saved  the  life 
my  only  child.'  '  Your  thanks,1  said  the  young  mi 
'  are  more  justly  due  to  the  kind  providence  of  the 
mighty,  which  brought  me  hither.'  '  Accept,'  said  1 
father,  '  a  thousand  rubles,  as  a  reward  for  your  hum? 
exertions.'  '  Excuse,'  said  the  young  man,  '  my 
dining  your  handsome  offer  :  you  are,  in  fact,  mi 
more  indebted  to  the  exertions  of  my  dog,  than  to  re 
*  Well,  then,'  said  the  gentleman,  '  I  will  give  yo 
thousand  rubles  for  your  dog.'  '  A  quarter  of  an  h< 
ago,'  replied  the  young  man, '  I  did  not  think  him  wo1 
a  thousand  rubles  ;  but  now  he  has  saved  the  life  I 
human  being,  I  would  not  take  ten  thousand  for  him. 

The  young  man  then  rushed  into  the  crowd  of  sp 
tators,  and  the  enraptured  father  and  mother  could 
by  any  inquiry  find  out  who  he  was.  The  empe 
Alexander  was  informed  of  the  affair,  and  was  desir 


3 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  91 

discover  the  young  man  ;  but  the  search  he  ordered 
be  imde,  although  diligently  pursued,  was  fruitless. 
iO  admirable  youth  !  what  an  honour  art  thou  to  the 
jme  of  Russian,  or  rather  what  an  honour  to  human 
(ture  !  Upon  this  occasion  what  an  assemblage  of  hu- 
fmity,  p'ety,  delicacy  and  disinterestedness,  did  thy 
Jmis  and  actions  display  !  I  wish  I  was  acquainted 
lith  thy  name,  that  this  tributary  page  might  catch  a 
Y  of  giory  from  the  splendour  of  its  insertion.  Much 
(>re  I  wish  th.it  I  could  inscribe  the  particulars  of  this 
'ion,  together  with  thy  name,  in  indelible  characters 
the  temple  of  Immortality,  for  the  praise  and  the  irai- 
on  of  future  ages. 

A  L1GURIAN  SOLDIER. 

i'6*l.  '  When  I  lived  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alps,' 

i  Howel,  in  his  Familiar  Letters,  a  '  gentleman  told 

a  merry  tale  of  a  Ligurian  soldier,  who  had  got  in- 

icated  in  Genoa  ;  and  prince  Doria  going  his  rounds 

horseback  one  night,   the  soldier  took  his  horse  by 

bridle,  and  asked  what  the  price  of  him  was,  for  he 

ited  to  buy  a  horse.     The  prince,  observing  in  what 

e  the  man  was,  caused  him  to  be  taken  into  a  house, 

put  to  sleep  ;  and  in  the  morning  he  sent  for  him, 

asked  him  what  he  would  give  for  his  horse.'  '  Sir,' 

the   soldier,   who  had  by  that  time  recovered  his 

r  senses,  '  the   merchant  that  would  have  bought 

last  night  of  your  highness  went  away  early  this 

ning.' 

FRIENDSHIP. 

32.  A  gentleman  went  to  congratulate  a  friend  on 
gaining  some  preferment.  The  friend,  puffed  up 
i  his  promotion,  pretended  he  did  not  know  who  the 

leman  was.  Not  in  the  least  disconcerted  at  *uch 
*ange  reception,  he  changed  his  tone,  and  said,  '  I 
:ome  to  condole  with  you  upon  the  great  misfortune 

has  befallen  you  ; — yours  is,  indeed,  a  desperate 


02  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

case  :  You  are  so  completely  deaf  and  blind  as  not 
know  your  old  friends  !' 

COSMOGRAPHY. 

763.  A  boasting  and  ignorant  traveller  was  ace 
tome d  to  talk  much  of  the  various  countries  and  cit 
he  ijad  visited.  One  of  the  company  observed,  tha 
course  he  was  well  acquainted  with  Cosmograa 
The  traveller,  supposing  this  to  be  the  name  of  a  ci 
said,  *  We  saw  it  at  a  distance  ;  it  was  a  very  gn 
loo!  ing  place  ;  but  as  we  were  in  haste,  we  could 
visit  it. 

A  PROVERB  WELL  APPLIED. 

764.  A  gambler,  who  was  very  eager  and  covet(; 
said,  after  losing  a  large  sum  at  play,  '  1  have  at  le 
the  merit  of  losing  my  money  without  complainii 
'  True,'  said  a  lady, '  for  great  grief  is  dumb.' 

ARISTOTLE'S  RULES  TRANSGRESSf 

765  Some  critics  severely  criticising  a  new  trage 
one  of  ihem  sai>i,  that  not  one  of  Aristotle's  rules 
observed  in  it  ;  and  that  even  the  great  ends  of  tragi 
were  forgotten,  for  the  tragedy  moved  neither  tei 
nor  pity.  *  Pardon  me,\  said  a  more  humane  jud 
'  as  to  the  latter  ;  for  the  tragedy  certainly  moves  j 
for  tne  author.' 

THE  TWO  SISTERS. 

766.  A  lady,  very  like  her  sister,  was  looking  in 
glass  ;  and  seeing  a  face  there,  said  to  her  sister  \ 
was  standing  behind  her,  '  I  am  surprised  you  can  th 
of  going  into  company  with  such  a  dirty  face.'  '  r 
k,'  said  the  sister,  '  is  not  so  apropos  as  you  i) 
gine,  for  the  face  you  see  in  the  glass  is  not  mine 
your  own.' 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  93 

,TKE  OXFORD  CHURCHWARDEN. 

[  767.  Mr.  Malbon  the  apothecary  was  called  to  at- 
nd  an  Oxford  churchwarden,  whose  head  was  full  of 
irish  business,  and  was  not  very  conversant  with  ex- 
•essions  out  of  the  way  of  the  vulgar  tongue.  k  I  have 
I  great  soreness  in  my  breast,'  said  -the  churchwar- 
tjn.     '  That  arises,'  said  the  apothecary,  '  from  a  fe- 

ile  affection  in  the  thorax  ; — but  pray  let  me  ask  you, 
)  you   expectorate  V     '  Expect   a  rate  ?9     said    the 

urchwarden  ;  '  no,  sir,  thank  God,  that  parish  busi- 

ss  is  settled,  I  made  a  rate  last  week.' 

THE  NIMRODS  OF  OXFORD. 

768.  '  These  Oxonians,'  said  the  late  duke  of  B , 

innoy  me  very  much  in  my  hunting.  There  is  so 
rge  a  field  of  them  to-day,  that  if  the  vice-chancellor 
d  the  proctors  were  here,  1  should  have  the  whole 
niversity  riding  tally-ho  after  my  dogs.'  '  Do  you 
sh,'  said  one  of  the  duke's  huntsmen,  a  shrewd  fel- 
w,  '  to  keep  these  Oxford  scholars  away  ?'  '  How 
n  that  be  done  ?'  said  the  duke.  '  Nothing  easier,' 
joined  the  wag  :  '  In  the  front  of  your  dog-kennel 
iild  a  library.' 

A  PACK  OF  HOUNDS. 

"69.  You  must  go  to  Shakspeare  for  a  general  de- 
ription  of  a  pack  ;  but  if  you  want  the  particular 
mes  given  more  than  one  hundred  years  ago,  here 
py   are   in     couples,     taken    from    an    old     song> 

the  service  of  any  sportsman  : 

'Juno    and  Jupiter,  Tinker  and   Trotter, 
Singwell  and  Merryboy.  Captain  and  Cryer, 
Gangwtll  and  Gin^lebell,   Fairmaid   and  Fryer, 
Beauty  and  Bcnnylass,  Tanner  and  Trouncer, 
Foamer  and  Forrester,  Bonner  and  Bouncer. 


94  flowers   or  WIT. 

Gander  and  Oundnmore,  Jowler  and  Jumper, 
Tarquin  and  Tarmtrlane,  Thunder  and  Thumper." 

FRONTI  NULLA  FIDES. 

770.  A  gentleman  heard  a  coward  talk  in  a  he 
toring  manner  in  praise  ot  courage.  'He  puts  me 
mind,'  said  the  gentleman,  'of  what  I  once  saw  at 
puppet-show,  a  hare  beating  a  drum.' 

THE  SCHOOL  BOY    MATCHED. 

771  A  master  read  to  his  scholars  the  funeral 
ation  of  marshal  Turenne,  written  by  the  celebrated  F 
chier.  One  of  the  scnolars  said  to  another,  'When  w 
you  be  able  to  write  as  well  as  Flechier?  'As  sooi 
said  the  other,  'as you  are  able  to  fight  as  well  as  T 
renne.' 

A  CLERGYMAN'S  MENACE. 

772.  A  clergyman,  in  the  time  of  Cromwell,  bei 
deprived  of  his  living  for  Non-conformity,  said  to  J 
friends, 'That  if  he  was  deprived,  it  should  cost  a  hi 
died  men  their  lives-  'This  strange  speech  being  nois 
abroad,  he  was  summoned  before  a  magistrate,  a 
thus  explained  his  intention:  'Should  I  lose  my  benefit 
said  he,  'I  am  reselved  to  practise  physic,  and  ther 
may,  if  1  get  patients,  kill  a    hundred   men. 

THE  CONNOISSEURS. 

773.  A  painter  was  censured  for  not  taking  got 
likenesses  when  he  printed  portraits.  Me  was  p:qu< 
at  the  censures  of  his  friends,  and  wished  to  ascerta 
if  the  fault  imputed  to  him  was  real  or  not.  He  inforr 
ed  them  he  had  finished  a  poi trait  of  a  person  thr 
knew  perfectly  well,  which  he  flattered  himself  w 
nature  itself.   They  all  hastened  to  see  the  picture;  ar 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  95 

1,  without  hesitation,  pronounced  it  to  be  one  of  the 
'iy  worst  attempts  he  had  ever  made  at  a  likeness. 
You  are  mistaken,  friends, '  said  a  voice  from  the  head 
"the  picture,  '  it  is  myself.'  These  words  were  spo- 
\u\  by  the  person,  who  had  entered  into  the  stratagem 
the  painter,  and  put  his  head  through  the  canvas. 

HOW  TO  TAME  A  SHREW. 


774.  '  What  method  shall  1  pursue,'  said  a  French 
isband,  '  to  conquer  the  fury  of  my  wife  ?  At  every 
tie  trifle  that  crosses  her  humour,  she  frowns,  frets, 
ges  and  storms,  and  my  house  seems  too  small  to  con- 
in  her.  Her  whole  face  is  distorted,  her  hair  seems 
stand  erect,  her  eyes  dart  flashes  of  lightning,  and  her 
eeks  look  like  two  red-hot  balls,  while  words  as  point- 
l  as  needles  and  as  sharp  as  razors  issue  from  her  ex- 
nded  mouth.  In  short,  she  is  a  perfect  Medusa,  and 
trifles  me  with  horror  to  behold  her. 
*  One  method  I  will  try  to  reclaim  her.  She  has  a 
eat  idea  of  her  own  beauty  :  1  will  take  her  to  the 
aking-glass  ;  and  if  the  view  of  her  own  hideous  phy- 
)gnomy  does  not  restore  her  to  a  state  of  reason  and 
mquillity,  the  case  is  desperate  :  I  must  send  her  to 
hospital  of  lunatics,  and  shall  not  be  surprised  to 
ar  her  pronounced  incurable.' 

1  The  Cambridge  Merry  Jests  ;  or,    The  only  Way  to 
be  Witty.     The  sixth  edition  :  London.' 

The  following  are  extracts  from  a  curious  and  scarce 
)rk  with  the  above-mentioned  title,  a  copy  of  which 
preserved  in  the  British  Museum.  This  copy  has  no 
te,  but  it  was  probably  published  soon  after  the  Res- 
ration. 

A  TRUE  SCOT. 

That  there  has  always  been  a  traditionary  prejudice 
ainst  the  Scetch  by  the  English,  long  before  the  bit- 
21 


96  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

ing  sarcasms  of  Dr.  Johnson,  Churchill,  and  the  'No 
Briton'  appeared,  the  following  old  jest  will  prove  : 

775.  '  A  certain  English  bishop,  by  nation  a  Sc( 
man,  having  been  informed  that  a  neighbour  of  his 
said  he  was  a  false  Scot,  which  made  him  send  fori 
and  ask  him,  pressingly,  if  he  said  so.  The  fe;lo\ 
solulely  denied  it.  'Well,  what  did  you  say?'  sak 
bishop.  'My  lord,'  replied  the  man,  'I  only  said 
were  a  true  Scot :'  which  cut  him  to  the  heart,  as 
as  if  he  had  bid  him  read  Cleveland's  Satire  upoi 
countrymen.' 

776.  'A  pleasant  country-fellow  told  his  companio 
that  he  could  have  what  weather  he  pleased.  At  wh; 
they  laughed,  and  said,  'twas  impossible  ;  for  the  pi; 
ets,  as  they  had  heard,  governed  the  world,  and  J 
weather  too  'You  are  fools,'  said  he  ;  "for  what  wea 
er  pleases  God,  pleases  me  ;  and  now  I  hope  I  ha 
made  it  out.' ' 

777.  *  Some  Scotchmen  being  in  company  with  soi 
English,  the)r  began  to  banter  and  jeer  one  anoth 
Says  one  of  the  Englishmen,  'Was  not  he  a  great  rog 
that  sold  his  king?  (meaning  Charles  I.,  who  fled 
the  Scots  for  protection.)  'Yes,'  says  the  Scotchma 
'but  he  was  a  greater  that  gave  the  money.'  Ad 
another,  'But  he  was  the  greatest  of  all  that  cut  ofl  1 
head.' 

S.  P.  Q.  R. 

'  A  jest  touching  these  letters,  S.  P.  Q,  R. 
(Senntus,  Populusque  Romanus.) 

778.  It  so  happened,  that  a  new  pope  being  elect 
mereiy  for  his  devotion  and  austerity  of  life,  as  usi 
an  extraordinary  spare  diet,  and  seldom  seen  so  much 
to  smile;  yet,  after  his  inauguration,  coming  to  sit 
pontificalibus,  he  used  to  feed  high,  to  laugh  heartil1 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  97 

1  to  countenance  jesters  and  buffbones  to  make  him 
it}  at  his  table  ;  which  being  observed,  one  sets  up 
se  toure  words,  being  correspondent  to  the  toure  tor- 
ir  letters,  Sancte  Pater,  Quare  Rides  ?  To  which  the 
t  day  was  underwritten,  Rideo  Quia  Pajm  SunC 

779.  Verses  written  on  a  Window  in  the  Highlands  of 
Scotland ,  by  Aaron  Hill. 

Scotland,  thy  weather's  like  a  modish  wife, 
Thy  winds  and  rams  maintain  perpetual  strife  ; 
So  termagant  awhile  her  thunder  tries, 
And  when  she  can  no  longer  scold  she  cries. 

'COFFEE-HOUSE  JESTS.' 

The  following  specimens  of  a  publication  with  the 
3ve  title  are  extracted  from  a  very  scarce  copy  pre- 
ved  in  the  British  Museum.  The  fifth  edition  of  the 
rk  was  printed  in  lo8b. 

T80.  '  A  gentleman  that  used  to  be  smart  in  his  repar- 
s,  once  had  in  his  hat  a  very  gallant  and  rich  knot  of 
d  and  silver  ribbon,  which  some  young  ladies  bad  a 
id  to,  if  they  could  get  it  handsomely,  without  beg- 
g  of  it;  and  so  one  of  them  said  to  him,  'Sir,  you 
e  a  very  fine  favour  in  your  hat  ;'  and  so  they  said 

Pray,  madam,'  says  he  to  the  first,  'tell  me  truly, 
you   like  it  ?'  'Yes  indeed,  sir,'  says  she.     'Why 

says  he,  'if  you  had  not  liked  it,  I  should  hr>ve 
g  it  into  the  fire  ;  but  since  you  say  you  like  it,  I 
test  I  like  it  the  better,  and  am  resolved  to  keep  it 
your  sake." 

81.  '  An  Oxonian  meeting  with  a  bully  in  London, 
)  it  seems,  swore  that  he  would  take  the  wall  of  all 
sons  he  met.  the  Oxonian  was  going  between  the  wall 
1  him  ;  with  that  the  bully  began  to  thrust  him  back, 
1  told  him  he  did  not  use  to  give  every  coxcomb  the 
II.    'No,'  says  the  Oxonian,  'what  good  will  the  wall 


98  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

dome  without  the  house?'  'But,'  say§  the  bully 
don't  mean  to  give  every  fool  the  wall.'  'But,  sir,' 
plies  the  Oxonian,  'I  do.'  And  so  let  him  have  it, 
marched  away.' 

A  similar  adventure  and  a  similar  retort  are  attri 
ed  to  Dr.  Johnson. 

ANNIBAL  CARRACHI 

782.  Said  one  day  to  his  brother  Agostino,  whop 
ed  himself  upon  writing  good   verses  and  laughed 
him  for  his  want  of  poetical  genius  :  *  Poets  paint  wi 
words,  and  painters  spe.#v  with  the  pencil.' 


CHTNESE  PHILOSOPHY. 


on< 


783.  A  mandarin,  who  was  proud  of  appearing 
a  number  of  jewels  to  every  part  of  his  robe,  was  o 
accosted  by  an  old  bonze,  who,  following  him  thro'j£ 
several  streets,  and  bowing  often  to  the  ground,  than 
ed  him  for  his  jewels.  'What  do  you  mean  ?'  said  tl 
mandarin  ;  '  for  I  have  not  given  you  any  of  my  jei 
els.'  '  No,'  replied  the  bonze  ;  *  but  you  have  let  n 
look  at  them,  and  that  is  as  much  as  you  can  do  yoa 
self;  so  there  is  no  difference  between  us,  except  th 
you  have  the  trouble  of  guarding  them,  anemployme 
I  do  not  like,  and  I  have  not.' 

A  PAIR  OF  MISERS. 

784.  Guy,  the  founder  of  the  noble  hospital  whk 
bears  his  name,  was  a  bookseller,  and  lived  in  Stock'* 
market,  between  Cornhill  and  Lombard-street.  1: 
was  so  complete  a  pattern  of  parsimony,  that  the  f; 
mous  miser  Vulture  Hopkins  once  called  upon  him 
crave  a  lesson  on  the  art  of  savin?.  Being  introduce, 
into  the  parlour,  Guy,  as  it  was  in  ihe  evening,  an 
dark,  lighted  a  candle.  Hopkins  said,  *  Sir,  I  ahvaj 
thought  myself  perfect  in  the  art  of  getting  and  hm 
banding  money  ;  but  as  I  am  informed  you  far  excee. 


FLOWERS    OP    WIT.  99 

ne,  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  waiting  upon  you,  to 
e  satisfied  upon  that  subject.'  '  O  sir,'  said  Guy,  '  if 
hat»be  all  your  business,  we  can  just  as  well  talk  it 
ver  in  the  dark.'  Having  thus  said,  he  put  out  the 
landle.  This  was  enough  for  the  Vulture  :  he  took  his 
eave,  with  this  acknowledgement  :  '  I  thought  myself 
•erfect  in  the  arts  of  saving,  but  you  have  taught  me 
hat  I  had  one  important  lesson  still  to  learn  :  I  thank 
ou  for  your  instruction,  and  you  may  be  assured  my 
iuture  conduct  shall  make  amends  for  my  past  prodi- 

Jality  in  candles.' 

|  J  That  he  carried  his  resolution  into  effect,  seems  prob- 
ble  from  these  lines  of  Pope  : 


1  When  Hopkins  dies,  a  thousand  lights  attend 
The  wretch,  that  living  sav'd  a  candle's  end.1 

PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 


Presence  of  mind  is  that  rare 'and  desirable  disposi- 
on  which  displays  itself  in  a  temper  intrepid  and  se- 
me.  It  qualifies  persons  to  take  advantage  of  every 
ccurrence  of  the  moment,  to  profit  instantly  by  the 
listakes  and  faults  of  others,  and  to  be  fertile  in  all 
^sources  that  peculiar  situations  may  oblige  them  to 
y  to.  A  man  may  be  a  man  of  genius,  or  of  business, 
ut  he  cannot  be  a  hero  without  presence  of  mind. 

785.  When  the  army  of  Cyrus  was  just  going  to  en- 
age  that  of  Croesus,  they  were  thrown  into  great  con- 
ernation  by  hearing  a  clap  of  thunder,  which  they 
mk  as  a  bad  omen.  The  genius  of  Cyrus  immediate- 
(  suggested  an  interpretation  of  the  incident  to  reani- 
late  the  courage  of  his  men-  *  My  friends,'  said  he, 
the  gods  declare  in  our  favour  ;  let  us  march  on  :  we 
""  follow  thee,  O  great  Jupiter,  who  thus  givest  to  us 
le  lucky  omen  of  victory.' 

786.  The  Mareschal  de  Faber,  a  distinguished 
rench  officer,  during  a  siege  was  pointing  out  a  place  ; 
idjust  as  he  was  speaking,  a  musquet  ball  carried  off 

21* 


100  FLOWERS   OP    WIT. 

the  finger  with  which  he  was  pointing:  he  instanl| 
stretched  out  another  finger,  and  continued  the  conv« 
sation,— *  Gentlemen,  as  I  was  observing — ' 

787  While  commodore  Anson's  ship,  the  Centuri< 
was  engaged  in  close  fight  with  the  rich  Spanish  g, 
leon  which  he  afterwards  took,  a  sailor  came  running 
him,  and  cried  out,  *  Sir,  our  ship  is  on  fire  very  nt 
the  powder  magaziue.'  *  Then  pray,  friend,'  said  t 
commodore,  not  in  the  least  degree  discomposed,  '  i 
back  and  assist  in  putting  it  out.' 

A  HINT  TO  PORTRAIT-PAINTERS 

788.  A  painter  took  the  exact  likeness  of  a  gent 
man  of  a  very  dark  complexion.  The  gentleman  I 
the  picture  at  the  painter's  bouse  long  after  it  was  f| 
ished,  and  neglected  to  pay  for  it.  'I  he  painter,  tir 
with  waiting  so  long  for  his  money,  hit  upon  this  exj 
dient  to  obtain  it.  '-Sir,'  said  he  to  the  gentleman 
the  bronze  visage,  'my  neighbour  the  innkeeper  au 
Blackamoor's  Head  wants  a  new  sign,  and  has  desh*j 
me  to  paint  him  one.'  '  What  then  V  said  the  gent, 
man.  'What  then!  replied  the  painter  ;  'Why,  ify, 
do  not  immediately  pay  me  for  your  likeness,  and  ta 
it  away,  my  neighbour  the  innkeeper  shall  have  it.'  { 

THE  CHURCH  OF  ROME. 

789.  A  protestant  who  had  a  termagant  wife,  b 
inff  asked  what  the  Church  of  Rome  was  like,  answt, 
ed,  '  Truly  I  think  that  Church  as  much  like  my  w:i 
as  any  thing.'  '  Why  so  V  '  Because,'  replied  I 
Protestant,  '  She  commands  what  she  pleases,  withoi 
regard  of  either  God  or  man,  and  then  curses  all  t 
family  to  the  devil,  if  they  give  her  not  instant  obe( 
ence.' 

NEWSPAPERS. 

790.  '  Waiter,'  said  a  traveller  at  a  country  in* 


&LOWERS  OF  WIT.  tX)l 

king  me  a  newspaper.'  *  Sir,'  said  the  waiter,  *  we 
p  badly  off  for  papers  at  present :  we  have  lost  the 
\iy ;  we  have  neither  Sun,  nor  Star;  a  captain  of  a 
lip  is  reading  the  Pilot;  and  the  only  papers  you  can 
ke  are  Old  Times S 

THE  IRISH  BRIGADE. 

91.  Louis  XIV.  complained  to  the  colonel  of  the 
i  Brigade,  that  his  men  were  the  most  boisterous 
i  ungovernable  of  any  in  the  French  service.  '  The 
th  of  your  majesty's  observation  is  very  clear,'  re- 
ed the  colonel,  '  and  very  generally  acknowledged, 
all  your  enemies  say  the  same.' 
The  Her.  S,  Smith,  in  one  of  his  lectures  at  the 
yal  Institution,  remarked  that  this  was  one  of  the 
»t  retorts  that  ever  was  made. 

FAMILY  SECRETS. 

J9.2.  There  was  a  lady  of  the  west  country  that  gave 
at  entertainment  at  her  house  to  most  ol  the  gallant 
itlemen  thereabouts  ;  and  amongst  others,  sir  Walter 
leigh  was  one.  This  lady,  though  otherwise  a  state- 
dame,  was  a  notable  good  housewife  ;  and  in  the 
ming  betimes  she  called  to  one  of  her  maids  that 
ked  to  the  swine,  and  asked,  '  Are  the  pigs  served  V 
Walter  Raleigh's  chamber  was  near  the  lady's,  so 
le  heard  her  ask  this  question.  A  little  before  din- 
,  the  lady  came  down  in  great  state  into  the  great 
mber,  which  was  full  of  gentlemen  ;  and  as  soon  as 
Walter  Raleigh  set  eye  upon  her, 4  Madam,'  said  he, 
!e  the  pigs  served  ?'  The  lady  answered  you  know 
t  whether  you  have  had  your  breakfast.' 

HIGH  SPIRIT. 

)3.  At  the  siege  of  Namur,  the  duke  of  Luxemburgh 
imanded  the  French  army.  One  of  his  soldiers  de- 
ed to  king  William  III.,  who  asked  him  the  reason 
|  induced  him  to  come  over  to  him.    '  The   rea- 


102  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

son,'   said  he,  '  is  because  our  army  is  half  deac 
want  of  provisions  ;  but  in  spite  ot  their  distress,  1 
vise  you  not  to  cross  the  river  to  attack  them  ;  fi| 
you  do,  they  will  give  you  such  a  beating  as  will  mi 
you  repent  your  imprudence  as  long  as  you  live. 

CIVILISATION. 

794.  A  traveller  described  the  sad  catastrcl 
of  being;  castaway  with  a  few  companions  upon  an1 
known  shore.  '  After  walking  several  miles,"  said1 
*  in  a  dreary  and  desolate  country,  just  as  we  * 
giving  ourselves  over  to  despair,  we  espied  a  gil 
with  a  man  hanging  upon  it.  A  sight  so  very  pro 
ing  could  not  fail  to  raise  our  spirits,  as  we  were 
vinced  we  were  now  coming  into  a  civilised  part  ot 
world.' 

PRACTICE  BETTER  THAN  PROF] 
SIONS. 

795.  An  Athenian  who  was  deficient  in  eloque: 
but  very  brave,  when  one  of  his  competitors  in 
and  flowery  speech  made  great  professions  ot  wha 
would  do,  arose  and  said,  k  Men  of  Athens  !  all  thai 
has  promised,  1  will  perform.' 

AN  OLD  CAVALIER. 

796.  When  Oliver  Cromwell  first  coined  half-cro^ 
an  old  cavalier,  looking  at  one  of  them,  read  thi 
scription,  God  with  ws,  on  one  side  ;  and  The  < 
monwealth  of  Flngland,  on  the  other  side  :  '  I  see 
she,  *  that  God  and  the  commonwealth  are  on  opp( 
ideas.' 


STATESMEN  OF  THE  NORTH 


\ 


797.  In   the   recluse  vales  of  Cumberland,  li 
independent  order  of  men  who  are  called  States* 


FLOWERS    OP    WIT.  103 


ey  transmit  from  father  to  son  with  little  rariation 
ir  original  family  property  ;  and  their  wealth  con- 
s  chiefly  in  large  flocks  of  sheep.     Their  manners 

simple,  and  their  hospitality  is  such  as  to  present  a 
itnblance  of  the  patriarchs  described  by  Moses  and 

heroes  of  Homer.  '  I  recommend  you,'  said  a 
esraan  to  a  traveller,  whom  he  had  entertained  in  his 
se  some  days,  '  to  go  to  the  valley  that  lies  on  the 
er  side  of  that  blue  mountain,  there  you  will  find 
house  of  my  neighbour,  tell  him  you  come  from  me  : 
iow  him  not  ;  but  fear   not  a  hearty  welcome,  for 

sheep  mingle  upon  the  mountains.' 

OHN  BULL  TALKING  FRENCH. 

he  assertion  may  be  hazarded,  that  the  English 
:e  as  many,  or  perhaps  more  ridiculous  blunders 
i  respect  to  the  French,  than  the  French  do  with 
>ect  to  the  English  language. 

98.  A  Johnny  Bull,  with  his  clothes  covered  with 
arrived  at  Paris.  '  Garcon,'  said  he  to  the  servant 

attended  him,  '  apportez  moi  une  brocket  Away 
t  the  servant  ;  and  great  was  the  amazement  of 
my  his  master,  to  see  the  cook  bringing  him  a  targe 

instead  of  his  servant  returning  with  a  coat-brush. 

19.  An  English  gentleman,  intending  to  speak  in 
le  of  a  lady  who  had  fine  eyes,   began  by  saying 

est  bossue,  instead  of  saying  Elle  e    beaux   yevx. 

company  of  course  looked  at  her  back,  instead  of 
[ace- 

WHAT  IS  A  BUREAU  ? 

•0.  In  a  company  in  London,  where  a  celebrated 
ss  was  present,  a  French  gentleman  related  a 
'  of  a  person  who  was  murdered  during  the  ty- 
v  of  Robespierre,  whilst  writing  in  his  bureau. 
ss  me,'  exclaimed  the  astonished  actress,  '  what 
ard-of  cruelty  !  to  kill  a  man  by  cramming  him 
a  chest  of  drawers  !' 


104  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

QUEEN  BESS. 

801.  A  courtikr  came  running  to  her,  and  wil 
face  full  of  dismay,  '  Madam,'  said  he,  '  1  have 
news  for  you  ;  the  party  of  tailors  mounted  on  ma 
that  attacked  the  Spaniards,  are  all  cutoff.'  k  C< 
age  !  friend,'  said  the  queen  ;  'this  news  is  indeed  k 
but  when  we  consider  tbe  nature  of  the  quadruped- 
the  description  of -the  soldiers,  it  is  some  comfoi 
think  we  have  lost  neither  man  nor  korse.y 

A   DREAM. 

802.  An  old  dowager,  extravagantly  fond  of  ca 
went  to  church  with  apparent  devotion,  but  lamen 
tint  Sunday  prevented  her  enjoyment  of  her  favou 
pool  of  quadrille.     Soon  after  the  sermon  was  be 
she  fell  into  a  slumber,  and  dreamed  she  was  play 
at  cards,  and  lost  all  her  money  and  jewels  to  a  gen 
man  very  well  dressed,  but  of  a  disagreeable  .app 
ance.     After  placing  a  long  time  with  the  same  ill  h 
she  continued  to  dream  that  she  was  reduced,  as  a 
resource,  to  stake  her  three  children.     She  lost  ther 
this  ill-looking  gentleman,  who  soon  took  himself 
and  she  discovered  who  he  was  by  his  cioven  feet, 
a  long  tail  stretched  out  beyond  the   flaps  of  his  c1 
and  the  strong  smell  of  sulphur  which  he  left  be! 
him.     'What  is  this  strong  smell?'  said  she,  as 
awoke  in  a  great  fright.     '  It  proceeds,'  said  a  lad; 
the  pew  with  her,  '  from  a  bottle  of  salts,  which  f 
ply  to  your  nose,  that  you  may  awake,   and  hear 
conclusion  of  the  sermon.' 

ANCIENT  GREEKS  MODERN. 

803.  How  highly  do  we  elevate  the  dignity  of 
Greeks  and  Homansby  calling  them  the  ancients  !  ' 
Jews,  the  Chinese,  and  the  bramins  speak  in  a  far 
ferent  manner  of  them  now,  as  the  Egyptians  did  fo 
erly.    An  Egyptian  priest,  conversing  with  Solon,  j 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  105 

ihim,  '  You  Greeks  are  always  children  ;  you  have  no 
|ovvledge  of  antiquity,  and  no  antiquity  of  knowledge.' 

A  CONVERT. 

04.  A  French  officer  who  was  a  prisoner  upon  his 
iarole  at  Reading:,  met  with  a  Bible  :  he  read  it  ;  and 
As  so  struck  with  its  contents,  that  he  was  convinced 

I  the  folly  of  sceptical  principles,  and  of  the  truth  of 
iristianity,  and  resolved  to  become  a  Protestant, 
lien  his  gay  associates  rallied  him  for  taking  so  serious 
urn,  he  said  in  his  vindication,  'I  have  done  no  more 
n  my  old  school-fellow  Bernadotte,  who  is  become  a 
the  ran.1  '  Yes,  but  he  became  so,'  said  his  associ- 
'  to  obtain  a  crown.'  '  My  motive,'  said  the  Chris- 
i  officer,  '  is  the  same  ;  we  only  differ  as  to  place: 
e  object  of  Bernadotte  is  to  obtain  a  crown  in  Swe- 

;i  i, — mine  is  to  obtain  a  crown  in  heaven.' 

A  FAIR  INFERENCE. 

05.  \  gentleman  of  reduced  fortune  came  to  a 
son  who  had  formerly  been  his  servant,  to  borrow 
neyofhim.  The  upstart  servant  gave  him  a  very 
rtifying  reception,  and  asked  in  a  haughty  tone,  'Sir, 
f  do  you  give  me  all  this  trouble  ?  upon  my  honour 
ive  no  money  to  lend  you,  or  any  one  else.5  w  I  am 
tain  what  you  say  is  false,  '  said  the  gentleman;' 
if  you  where  not  rich,  you  dare  not  be  so  saucy.5 

THE  MOORS. 

06  There  was  a  cowardly  Spanish  soldier,  who, 
defeat  the  Moors  gave,    ran  away  among:  the  fore- 

•  of  his  countrymen.      Aferwards,  wl  en  the  army 

erally  fled,  this  soldier  was  missing.  Whereupon  it. 
reported  by  some  that  he  was  slain.  '  No,  sure/ 
one,  '  he  is  alive,  for  the  Moors  do  not  eat  hare's 

i.3 


106  FLOWERS    OP    WIT. 

THINGS  REVERSED. 

I 

807.  A  grammarian  seeing  an  actor,  who  when 
exchimed  '  O  Jupiter !  held  down  his  hand,  and  w 
he  exclaimed  '  O  earth  !'  held  it  up,  said,  '  This  i 
has  committed  a  solecism  with  his  hand.' 


A  DIALOGUE. 


808.  The  following  dialogue  between  an  uncle, 
his  nephew  was  overheard  in  St.  James'  Park,  in 
sequence  of  the  party  talking  very  loud. 

Nepherv.  My  dear  uncle,  1  have  the  pleasure  t( 
form  you,  that  I  am  just  returned  from  Perryvale, 
of  the  sweetest  villages  imaginable.  The  sun  was  s 
ing  with  brilliant  lustre,  the  trees  were  clothed  with 
richest  foliage,  the  birds  were  warbling  on  every  sp 
and  a  silvery  stream  meandered  through  the  valley 

'There  every  bush  with  nature's  music  rings, 
There  every  breeze  bears  health  upon  its  wings.' 

To  complete  my  feelings  of  delight  in  this  new  Area 
I  called  at  the  manor  house  upon  the  old  squire, 
he  introduced  me  to  his  daughter  as  she  was  walkir 
the  garden.  It  seemed  a  little  paradise,  with  an 
beautiful  as  innocent  in  it.  Her  eyes  sparkled 
living  lurtre,  her  cheeks  glowed  with  health  ;  and* 
ga\r>  me  a  new-blown  rose,  and  smiled  so  sweetb 
the  same  time,  that  all  the  arrows  of  Cupid's  qu 
could  not  have  made  a  deeper  wound  in  my  poor  h< 
0  what  a  delicious  village  !  O  what  an  enchantins  g 
Uncle  O  what  a  perfect  madcap  !  O  what  a  ted 
rhapsody  !  These  are  first  impressions  with  a  I 
geance  !  Why,  boy,  while  you  were  ranting  at  sui 
rale,  you  put  me  in  mind  of  the  puffing  style  of  an: 
tioneer,  and  the  gaudy  colouring  of  a  painter  of  s 
and  tea-boards,  but,  to  be  serious,  I  think  there  is 
a  tittle  of  real  matter  of  fact  in  all  you  have  been] 
ing.    Why,  only  a  few  days  ago  I  passed  througtf 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  107 

ry  same  place.  1  shall  not  soon  forget  it,  for  1  was 
nost  tired  to  death  with  walking-  through  it,  and  so 
Id  that  1  wished  for  a  great-coat.  I  saw  nothing  to 
mire  in  the  village  ;  it  was  like  most  others,  very  still 
d  very  stupid.  You  talk  of  the  trees  and  the  birds  : 
to  the  trees,  there  is  hardly  a  stick  of  good  timber 
the  whole  place  ;  if  you  were  to  cut  them  down,  they 
>uld  only  sell  for  fire-wood.  The  only  good  birds  ( 
w  there,  were  a  few  geese  in  a  pond,  and  I  don't  think 
i  whole  lot  would  fetch  a  two- pound  note  in  Leaden- 
1  market.  I  saw  the  squire's  daughter,  but  felt  none 
your  raptures,  I  assure  you.  Indeed  why  should  I  ? 
I  know  her  father  cannot  give  her  a  farthing.  After 
,  there  may  be  some  mistake.  Surely  it  was  not 
rryvale  you  saw,  but  some  other  place.  1  am  posi- 
I  was  there  ;  and  that  F  might  examine  every  thing 
better,  I  hardly  took  off  my  spectacles,  the  whole 

Nephew.  My  dear  uncle,  I  am  certain  we  have  been 
king  of  the  very  same  place,  and  the  very  samp  per- 
.  And  now,  if  you  will  excuse  my  freedom,  I  will 
you  the  reason  why  you  and  I  viewed  these  same 
ects  in  such  different  lights,  1  am  no  CEdipus,  but  I 
ve  the  einigma  thus— 1  am  young,  and  you  are  old. 

A  MAN  OF  FAMILY. 

09.  'Of  what  family  can  you  boast  of  being  de- 
nded  V  said  a  Castilian  guerilla  to  an  English  gren- 
tr.  *  I  am  descended  tiom  Don  Pedro  Nunez  Ve- 
piez  de  Pedrillo,  who  was  chief  trumpeter  to  the 
peror  Charles  V.  at  the  battle  of  Pavia.'  '1  cannot 
tend,'  said  the  grenadier,  looking  very  archly  at  the 
,  "  to  trace  my  pedigree  so  far  back  as  you  do  ;  but 
[  can  aver,  ihat  my  parents  made  more  noise  in  the 
Id  than  your  boasted  ancestor  don  Pedro,  the  great 
npeter  ;  for  mv  father  was  a  drummer,  <lvA  my 
her  cried  oysters.' 


108  FLOWERS    OF  WIT. 

MANAGEMENT. 

810.  'A  skilful  painter,'  said  a  lively  Frenchma 
*  knows  what  objects  to  bring  forward  to  meet  the  ey 
and  what  to  place  in  the  back  ground.  There  may  I 
defects  in  a  gentleman's  figure,  as  well  as  freckles  in 
lady's  face,  that  it  is  prudent  to  throw  into  shadoi 
Women  understand  how  to  manage  these  matters  mu< 
better  than  we  do  ;  and  so  do  not  imagine  that  veils  a 
always  worn  merely  for  the  sake  of  ornament.  Obser 
madame  C***.';  she  has  bad  teeth,  so  she  general 
keeps  her  lips  closed,  and  laughs  only  with  her  eye 

A  COLD  CANDID  CRITIC. 

811.  A  certain  poet,  not  wishing  to  incur  the  ce 
sure  with  which  Juvenal  lashes  authors  for  adding  to  tl( 
miseries  of  residing  at  Rome,  by  reciting  their  worl 
in  the  dog-days,  resolved  to  pursue  an  opposite  cours< 
so  he  kept  his.  verses  till  the  winter.  He  then  re; 
them  to  a  friend,  who  was  a  competent  critic,  in  e 
tremely  cold  weather.  The  reading  was  protracted 
long,  that  the  critic  had  almost  exhausted  his  vii 
warmth,  as  well  as  his  patience.  At  last  the  poet  pat 
ed,  and  with  no  small  degree  of  modest  assurance  as 
ed  his  friend  what  he  thought  of  his  production.  *  T 
deal  fairly  with  you,'  said  the  critic,  k  and  to  confe| 
the  impression  you  have  made  upon  my  feelings, : 
there  had  been  more  fire  in  your  verses,  or  if  your  v< 
ses  had  been  in  the  fire,  I  should  not  have  been  so  nes' 
ly  frozen  to  death  as  1  am.' 

A  VOYAGE  TO  INDIA. 

812.  A  gentleman  well  known  for  his  facetiousnc 
was  dining  with  a  nobleman,  and  as  the  company  we, 
talking  of  a  voyage  to  India,  some  glasses  of  Caj 
wine  were  handed  rouni  the  table.  All  the  guests  * 
pressed  their  praises  of  its  exquisite  flavour,  and  wis 
ed  much  to  have  a  second  taste  of  it.    When  the  gc, 


FLOWERS    OF  WIT.  109 

leman  found  it  was  in  vain  to  indulge  this  hope,  he 
imed  to  the  person  who  sat  next  him,  and,  happily 
Uuding  to  the  voyage  to  !ndh,  said,  k  As  we  cannot 
ouble  the  Cape,  suppose  we  go  back  to  Madeira.' 

POWER. 

813.  'I  can  call  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep,'  said 
Ape  boasting  Owen  Gleudower.       Rut  will  they  come 

fben  you  call  V  was  the  searching  question  to  bring 
is  power  over  the  beings  of  the  invisible  world  to  the 

3St. 

814.  A  gentleman  said,  '  I  command  more  than  any 
lan,  even  than  the  duke  of  York,  who  is  at  the  head 
f  the  army.'  *  How  so?'  inquired  a  friend.  ■  Why,' 
ephed  the  gentleman,  '  I  keep  one  servant,  and  before 
can  get  him  to  do  any  thing  I  want,  1  am  obliged  to 
ommand  him  fifty  times  over.' 

ANALOGIES. 

Dean  Swift,  wishing  to  raise  a  laugh  against  cer- 
iin  fanciful  etymologists,  wrote  a  ludicrous  essay  to 
rove  that  the  English  was  the  primitive  language,  and 
iat  many  names,  such  as  Sophocles,  Alexander  the 
Ireat,  Astrologer,  &c.  were  derived  from  it.  Many 
dditions,  as  the  following  instances  show,  may  be  made 
)  his  list  ;  and  they  may  be  easily  increased  by  ob- 
Brving  the  whimsical  efforts  which  the  common  people 
lake  to  accommodate  classical  and  other  names  to  their 
wn  notions. 

815.  Four  English  sailors  were  asked  to  what  ships 
f  war  they  belonged.  The  first  said,  1 1  am  a  fore- 
last-man  in  the  dead  louse*  (the  Dedalus.)  'he  se- 
ond  said,  k  I   am  going  on  board  the  bonny  pheasant* 

he  Bienfaisant.)  The  third  said,  '  I  am  just  come 
■om  the  Peg  of  the  sea'  (the  Pegase.)     The  fourth  ob- 

rred,  '  I  think  I  shall  have  a  better  birth  than  any  of 


110  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

you,  for  I  have  left  the  all  sides  (the  Alcide,)  and 
going  upon  a  cruise  in  toe  ale-house'1  (the  Eolus.) 

A  CICERONE. 

81G.  A  tarty  of  gentlemen  went  to  see  an  old  ma 
sion,  where  there  was  a  collection  of  pictures.  Ano 
worn  m  was  cicerone  upon  the  occasion,  and  she  ga 
them  some  laughable  proofs  how  well  qualified  she  w 
for  her  office.  k  By  whom  was  that  beautiful  enam 
painted  V  said  one  of  the  party.  The  answer  was,  'I 
John  Pettitoes  :'  the  painters  name  was  Pettitot. 
you  look  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  room,'  said  tl 
cicerone.  '  you  will  see  The  Misers  of  Squinting  Gru, 
Eyes  (Quintin  Matsys.)  The  picture  that  is  nearest 
it  is  by  Paul  Wearn  Knees  (Paul  Veronese  ;)  and  i 
companion  is  by  Cannibal  Scratch  ye'  (Hannibal  Cara 
ci.) 

ULYSSES. 

817.  Two  scholars  were  talking  of  Ulysses,  as  de 
cribed  in  Homer's  Odyssey.  '  VV  hen  he  killed  all  tli 
suitors  of  his  queen  Penelope,'  said  one,  '  he  certain) 
shot  with  a  very  strong  bow.'  '  True  said  the  othei 
1  and  when  he  told  all  his  marvellous  stories  to  the  kir 
of  Phceacia,  of  Circe  turning  men  into  swine,  of  Caly) 
so  that  could  confer  immortality,  and  the  Cyclops  Poh 
pherne,  who  took  a  tree  for  a  walking-stick,  he  as  ce 
tainly  shot  with  a  very  long  bow.' 

THE  VICAR  OF  BRAY  MATCHED. 

818.  William  marquis  of  Winchester  being  ask€ 
how  he  continued  to  be  of  the  council  in  the  troubh 
some  times  of  divers  princes,  said,  '  I  never  attemp 
ed  to  be  the  director  of  others,  but  always  suffered  nr 
self  to  be  guided  by  the  most,  and  mightiest.  1  ha\ 
always  been  a  willow,  and  not  an  oak.' 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT*  111 

THE  GERMANS. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  members  of  the  French 
.cademy  once  made  it  a  question,  Whether  it  was 
ossible  for  a  German  to  be  a  wit.  Had  they  serious- 
examined  the  subject,  they  would  have  found  that 
le  repartee  of  a  German  wit,  as  well  as  the  erlge  of 
*  German  sabre,  is  as  sharp,  and  cuts  as  deeply  as  their 

819.  Frederick  of  Prussia,  in  the  midst  of  his  great- 
ess,  not  only  condescended  to  patronise  a  manufac- 
>ry  of  china  at  Berlin,  but  to  share  in  the  profits.  One 
ay  he  said  to  Quintus  Icilius,  a  colonel  in  his  army, 
rid  the  son  of  a  potter  in  Magdebourg,  '  When  you 
ive  yourself  such  haughty  airs,  as  one.  of  my  officers, 
ou  surely  forget  the  low  occupation  of  your  father.' 
And  you,  sire,'  retorted  Icilius.  very  severely  nettled, 
when  you  so  far  lose  sight  of  your  ro}ral  dignity,  as 
►  use  such  language  to  me,  forget  that  there  is  but  one 
ep  between  a  dealer  in  pottery  and  a  dealer  in  china.'' 

820.  Frederick,  great  conqueror  as  he  was,  sus- 
lined  a  severe  defeat  at  Coslin  in  the  war  of  1756. 
time  time  after,  at  a  review,  he  jocosely  asked  a  sol- 
ier,  who  had  got  a  deep  cut  in  his  cheek,  fc  Friend, 

what  alehouse  did  you  get  that  scratch  V  *  I  got  if 
id  the  soldier,  '  at  Coslin,  where  your  majesty  paid 
le  reckoning  to  the   Russians. ' 

PROFESSIONAL  JEALOUSY. 

821.  'I  will  admit,'  said  Hogarth, '  all  the  world  to 
e  competent  judges  of  my  pictures,  except  those  who 
re  of  the  profession.' 

CLASSICAL  APPLICATIOxNS. 

&22.  Two  Oxford  scholars  being  at  a  loss  for  amuse^ 
lent,  one  said  to  the  other,  suppose  we  cap  verses, 

22* 


112  FLOWERS  OF  WtT. 

*  No,'  said  his  companion,  '  for  I  should  think  that 
dry  work  as  chopping  logic.     Suppose  we  repeat 
the  alternate  styie  of  Virgil's  shepherds,  all  the  ii 
ious  applications  we  can  recollect  of  passages  in 
Classics  that   have    been  made   to  modern  subje< 

*  Agreed,'  said  the  other,  '  provided  we  do  not  at 
the  original  text,    nor  pilfer  from  Jortin  or  Beresfc 

A.  It  was  aptly  said  of  a  barber  shaving,  as  Virgil 
of  a  flying  aove,  Radit  iter  liquidum. 

B.  What  think  you  of  the  skaiter,  who,  like  Fai 

Mob  Hit  ale  vigel,  viresque  acquiril  cundo. 

A.  Sadler  going  up  with  his  balloon,  may  be  supj 
ed  to  exclaim, 

Tentnnda  via  e*/,  qua  m*  quoque  possim 
Tollere  humo,  vicforqut  vimm  volilare  per  ora. 

B.  George  rluddesford  prefixed  this  motto  to  his 
ses  on  a  favourite  eat  : 

J)Ii,-c<it  inter  omne$. 

A.  If  it  be  fair  play  to  assail  me  with  a.pun,  take  a] 
other  in  return.  A  friend  of  ours  not  long  ago  ga' 
wine  to  a  party.  They  expressed  their  dislike  of  r 
Port ;  so  he  told  them,  if  they  would  have  patienc, 
he  would  go  to  his  cellar  and  fetch  them  some  wiij 
they  would  like  better.  After  they  had  waited  sot 
time,  he  returned  with  some  claret,  which  diey  pr 
nounced  to  be  excellent.    A  wag  who  was  present  sai 

*  Our  host  reminds  me  of  old  Fabius  Maximus,  who 

« Cunctando  restituit  rem  ; 

Ergo  magisque  magisque  viri  nunc  gloria  claret. 

B.  Tom  Warton  prefixed  this  motto  to  his  'Compa 
ion  to  the  Guide  and  Guide  to  the  Companion  :' 

Tu  Mihi  dux.  eommiii,  lu  tomes  ipsa  duct. 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  1  !3 

his  line  seemed  so  exactly  to  correspond  with  the 
lie,  that  wagers  were  laid  Tom  VVarton  was  the  au- 
Er  of  it.     The  sceptics  lost  their  bets,  (or  it  occurs 

Ovid's  Epistle  of  Hypermnestra  to  Lynceus. 
(A.  If  you  quote  mottos,  I  will  pay  you  in  your  own 
I'm. 

Malone  published  a  pamphlet  to  prove  that  the  man- 
cripts  produced  by  Ireland  and  attributed  to  Shaks- 
are  were  gross  forgeries.  Malone  inserted  in  his 
ie-page  a  part  of  the  description  which  Virgil  gave 
the  impious  Salmoneus,  and  applied  it  to  Ireland 
th  singular  felicity  : 

Dement  qui.  nimbo*  tt  inn  milabilefnltnen 
JEre  el  corniptnclum  sonita  sonu'arat  equo/um  ! 

B.  Dr.  Joseph  Warton  made  a   good  hit,  when  he 
ard  that  John  the  painter  was  going  to  be  executed 
board  the  Arethusa  frigate.     '  John,'  said  the  doc- 
:  %  may  adopt  the  invocation  of  Virgil  : 

Exlrcmum  hunc\  Arethusa,  raihi  connde  laborem? 

A.  Felix  Vaughan,  an  able  barrister,  was  supposed 
be  implicated  with  Home  Tooke,  Hardy,  and  others, 
^o  were  afterwards  tried  for  high  treason  This 
^tter  was  canvassed  by  the  privy-council  ;  and 
len  it  was  ascertained  that  Felix  Vaughan  had  cau- 

dy  stopped  short  of  the  risks  which  others  had  run, 

Dundas  exclaimed, 


Fejix,  quern fuciu-tt  alhna  piricula  caulurn 


B.  You  recollect  to  whom  Tibullus  addressed  the 
lowing  beautiful  lines.  Louis  Racine  may  be  said 
have  consecrated  them  :  he  was  a  pious  Catholic, 
d  applied  them  to  his  crucifix  : 

Te  spcclem,  supremo,  mihi  cum  veneril  Iiora, 
Tt  leneam  monens  dejictmle  manu. 

A.  I  have  kept  back  the  application  of  a  passage,  as 


114  FLOWERS    OP   WIT. 

my  -corps  de  reserve,  which  I  think  will  put  you  h\ 
de  combat.  It  is  unquestionably  the  happiest  alius 
1  ever  met  with. 

You  have  doubtless  heard  of  the  famous  cardi 
Poole,  archbishop  of  Canterbury.  Sandolet,  a  lean 
man,  advised  him  to  apply  himself  to  the  philosoj 
of  the  antients,  giving  it  the  preference  to  all  other  < 
dies.  '  At  the  period,  said  the  dardinal,  '  when 
world  was  obscured  by  the  darkness  of  Paganism, 
philosophy  you  recommend  did  certainly  excel  all  < 
er  pursuits  ;  but  since  the  mists  of  ignorance  have  bi 
cleared  away  by  the  bright  beams  of  the  Gosj 
Christian  knowledge,  derived  from  the  study  of 
holy  Scriptures,  has  justly  gained  the  prelerem 
in  short,  the  pagan  philosophy  you  so  much  admin 
now,  exactly  as  Tenedos  was  described  by  Virg 

* Notissima  fama 

Insula,  dives  opum,  Prlami  dumres;va  mnncbanl ; 
Nunc  tanlum  sinus,  et  statio,  nukjida  carinti.'' 

EPITAPHS. 

823.  There  are  few  topics  on  which  the  scourge 
wit  may  be  more  fairly  exercised,  than  on  the  flatt 
and  misrepresentation  too  often  diffused  over  vast  s 
faces  of  sepulchral  marble  in  compliment  to  the  de| 
Dr.  Friend  was  an  epitaph-writer  of  very  prolix, 
indeed  elegant  sentences  in  Latin.  The  following  n 
epigram  was  addressed  to  him  : 

'  Friend,  in  your  epitaphs  I'm  griev'd 

So  very  much  is  said  ; 
One  half  will  never  be  belie v1d, 

The  other  never  read.' 


CONSTANCY. 

824.  A  Roman  lady  who  remained  a  widow  in 
prmie  of  life  was  asked,  Why  she  did  not  marry  agi 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  115 

e  answered,  '  Because  my  husband  is  always  present 
th  me.' 

This  is  a  noble  contrast  to  the  story  of  the  Ephesian 
it  run. 


A  LATIN  TRANSLATION. 


325.  The  estate  pays  a  modus,  and  the  copyhold  is 

ine  certain.     k  Put   this  into   forensic  or  Ciceronian 

tin,'  said  a  gentleman  to  his  son,  a  young  student  of 

J:  law.     '  Into  Ciceronian  Latin,'  replied  the  student, 

Jannot  ;   but  into  Horatian  1  can.     Thus  : 

'I I   '  Est  modus  inrebus,  sunt  certi  dtniqne  fines.' 

DIAMOND   CUTS  DIAMOND. 


<2G.  Two  ladies  of  high  fashion,  as  they  entered  the 
ras  at  Bath,  met  a  citizen's  fat  wife  finely  dressed, 
aing  out.  4  See,'  said  one  of  them  in  a  half-whisper, 
ere  is  beef -<i -la-mode  going  out.'  'Yes,'  answered 
fat  lady,  overhearing  her,  *  and  there  is  game  corn- 
in.' 

THE  DIFFERENCE  OF  PROFES- 
SIONS. 

27.  a\  terson  observed  loan  eminent  lawyer,  thnt 
:han's  *  Domestic  Medicine'  was  a  good  book,  be- 
se  it  qualifies  every  man  to  be  his  own  physician, 
ow  far  that  may  be  the  case,  observed  the  eminent 
yer,  !  twill  not  presume  to  determine  ;  but  I  may 
allowed  to  speak  decidedly  as  to  my  own  profes- 
i  ;  and  so  I  hesitate  not  to  pronounce,  that  every 
)  who  is  his  own  lawyer,  has  a  fool  for  a  client.' 

SERVANTS. 

28.  It  was  an  observation  of  Elwes  the  noted 
er,  That  if  you  keep  one  servant,  your  work  will 
done  ;  if  you  keep  two  it  will  be  half  done  ;  and  if 

keep  three,  you  may  do  it  yourself. 


116  FLOWERS    OP    WIT. 

NEW  DIVSIONS  OF  THE  WORLD 

829.  In  a  party  of  wits  who  were  disposed  to  be 
cular,  it  was  observed,  That  it  was  now  become  rid: 
lous  to  adhere  to  the  old  divisions  of  the  globe.  I 
name  of  Europe  reminds  us  of  the  indelicate  stor 
Europa  and  the  bull  Jupiter  ;  Asia,  of  luxurious 
bobs  ;  Africa,  of  the  Guinea  Coast,  at  a  time  wl 
alas  !  guineas  are  as  scarce  as  Roman  coins  ;  Amer 
of  those  unnatural  children  who  are  fighting  with  ti 
mother. 

830.  '  Leave  the  rest  of  mankind,'  said  a  lively 
dy,  to  divide  themselves  into  what  classes  they  plea 
we  will  each  try  to  make  a  new  division  of  our  < 
circle  of  society.' 

'  Then/  said   major  Epicure,  I  divide  society 
two  classes  ;  Those  who  give  good  dinners,  and  t\ 
whom  they  invite  to  eat  them.' 

'  Rather,'  said  a  young  nnbleman,  who  bad  ne:t 
ruined  himself  by  his  profuse  expences  in  building, 
was  conscious  of  his  imprudence, '  let  society  be  di 
ed  into  these  two  classes  ;  The  fools  who  built  hou 
and  the  wise  men  who  tenant  them.' 

'  All  this  is   very  ingenious,'  said  Dr.  Logic  ;  j 
let  me  bespeak  your  applause  by  a  new  classifica! 
of  both  sexes.     Thus,  the  orders  of  men  are  four  : 
'  The  misers  who  hoard  every  thing  ; 

The  prodigals,  who  spend  every  thing  ; 

The  croakers,  who  fear  every  thing  ; 

And  the  grinners.  who  laugh  at  every  thing. 
The  orders  of  women  are  likewise  four  : 

The  peacocks,  with  whom  dress  is  all  ; 

The  magpies,  with  whom  chatter  is  all  ; 

The  turtles,  with  whom  love  is  all  ; 

And  the  Paradise  birds,  above  them  all.' 

THE  SAILOR'S  JOY. 

£31.  Once  when  admiral  Pakenham,  one  of  our 
nowned  naval  officers,  landed  at  Portsmouth,  a  fri 


FLOWERS    OF  WIT.  117 

ed  him  how  he  left  the  crew  of  his  ship.  *  O,' 
i  he,  *  I  have  left  them  all,  to  a  man,  the  merriest 
ows  in  the  world.'  '  How  so  V  '  Why,  1  flogged 
enteen  of  them,  and  they  are  happy  it  is  over  ;  and 
the  rest  are  happy,  because  they  have  escaped.' 

EQUIVOCAL  PIGS. 

32.  A  person  was  prosecuted,  and  tried  for  steal- 
pigs.     Theie  was  no  doubt  as  to  the  foct  :  but  as 

pas  not  stated  in  the  indictment  what  sort  of  pigs 
7  were,  whether  alive  or  dead,  whether  animal  pigsB 
igs  of  lead,  the  prosecutor  was  nonsuited. 

WILD  FOWL. 

33.  A  noble  lord  adverted  to  the  frequent  minori- 
in  which  the  ministry  were  in  the  year  1810,  and 

they  kept  their  places.  '  They  remind  me  very 
ibly,'  said  he, '  of  shooting  wild  fowl  in  a  large  lake  ; 
though  you  are  fortunate  enough  to  knock  them 
n,  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  get  them  out. 


GASCONADES. 

43.  A  gascon  and  a  Parisian  had  a  violent  quarrel ; 
their  dispute  was  soon  adjusted,  as  they  were  both  of 
(staff's  way  of  thinking,  that  the  best  part  of  valour 
iscretion.  '  You  are  very  fortunate,'  said  the  Gas- 
to  the  Parisian,  "  not  to  have  roused  me  beyond  a 
ain  degree  of  indignation.  Had  you  teased  me  an 
n  more,  I  would  have  taken  you  up,  and  tossed  you 
igh  iu  the  air,  that  the  flies  "would  have  devoured 
-y  partide  of  your  body,  before  it  would  have 
i  possible  for  you  to  tail  to  the  ground.' 


1  18  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

835.  '  The  renown  of  our  family,'  said  a  Gas 
gentleman,  k  has  not  blazed  with  its  full  splendour, 
cause  there  has  been  no  historian  like  Plutarch  to 
cord  the  exploits  of  my  heroic  progenitors.  Anc 
suoh  an  historian  had  added  to  our  family  the  Live: 
the  other  great  men  of  the  province  of  Gascony,  a 
brary  to  contain  his  works  would  have  reached  fi 
Bordeaux  to  Paris.' 

836.  A  Frenchman  who  pretended  he  had  very  ac 
sight,  said  to  a  friend,  as  he  was  walking  upon 
Boulevards  at  Paris  ;  '  Look,  don't  you  see  that  mo 
that  is  running  along  upon  the  top  of  Monmartre,  ab 
two  miles  oft'?'  '  No,'  said  the  friend,  *  1  can't  si 
— but  hark  !  I  hear  it  scratching  :  cannot  you  V 

837.  Monsieur  du  Quesne,  formerly  a  French  tea 
er  in  Oxford,  was  informed  in  a  large  company  thatv 
had  commenced  between  England  and  France. 
mon  pauvre  roi'  exclaimed  he,  "  le  malheureux  gri 
monurque! — when  you  bring  your  army  into  the  fi 
of  battle,  you  will  look  for  your  old  friend  Du  Ques 
You  will  say,  Where  is  Du  Quesne,  that  invincible  c. 
tain  ?  if  he  comes  not  to  fi^ht  by  my  side,  I  shall  i 
myself  in  a  great  embarras;  so  I.  must  immediati 
send  a  courier  to  St.  James',  and  make  peace  with  il 
king  of  England  !' 

838.  A  Frenchman,  probably  a  native  of  Gascoi 
was  taken  to  see  Mrs.  Siddons  in  the  tragedy  of  I 
J)ella.  The  performance  he  confessed  was  very  fin' 
but  the  pathetic  effect  was  by  no  means  equal  to  wl 
be  had  witnessed  in  Paris,  at  the  representation  ol 
petite  piece  called  M  nthropy  and  Repentance.' 
was  obliged,'  saio  he,  'to  hold  my  parasol  overt 
heal,  to  prevent  my  clothes  from  being  spoiled  by  t 
showers  of  tears  which  fell  from  the  front  boxes  imrr 
diately  above  me.' 

That  tbf  English 'are  not  deficient  in  fertility  of  ima{ 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  1  19 

ation  when  they  attempt  the  gasconade,  the  following 
,xample  may  convince  us. 

>  839.  An  English  traveller,  well  known  in  the  north 
F  England,  who  delighted  to  see  the  symptoms  of  as- 
nishinent  appear  upon  the  visages  of  his  auditors 
hen  be  related  his  adventures  ;  was  asked,  If  he  met 
Ufa  good  shooting  when  he  was  in  Portugal.  He  said, 
"here  was  good  pigeon  shooting,  and  the  flocks  were 
(large,  that  when  they  flew  they  darkened  the  air. 
Did  you  kill  any  of  them  ?'  was  the  question.  •  No,' 
tid  the  traveller  ;  '  hecause  when  I  fired  I  shot  too 
w  ;  but  the  first  shot  I  made,  1  brought  down  a  peck 
*  their  legs.' 

The  display  of  these  bubbles  of  ostentation,  orrath- 
■  these  meteors  of  extravagance,  shall  be  closed  with 
e  following  specimen.  We  are  much  mistaken  if  it 
in  be  exceeded  by  any  thing  of  the  kind. 

840  A  Norman  and  a  Gascon  were  disputing  upon 
e  antiquity  of  their  respective  families.  *  i  can  trace 
y  pedigree  from  a  very  high  source,'  said  the  Kor- 
an :  '  the  founder  of  my  family  dined  with  William 
b  Norman  the  day  before  he  set  off  to  conquer  Eng- 
id.'  '  Your  house  cannot  possibly  contend  with  ours 
•on  the  score  of  antiquity,'  retorted  the  Gascon,  '  if 
u  stop  at  the  recent  a;ra  of  W  illiam  the  Norman.  To 
ence  you  for  ever  upon  the  subject,  know,  to  your 
nfusion,  that  our  family  still  pays  a  rent-charge  for 
>ney  borrowed.  Now  that  money  \va-  expended  by 
tt  of  my  ancestors  in  bisjourne}  to  B  hlehem,  when 
Bent  to  see  the  adoration  of  our  Saviour  by  the  wise 
n  of  the  East!  \.V 


2* 


PUNS,  Ac. 


Gontaining  some  account  of  an  intended  Work  on  Pun- 
sters, and  the  whole  Art  and  Mystery  of  Punning  ; 
with  a  word  or  two  on  the  Bulls  af  different  Coun- 
tries. 


Various  definitions  have  been  given,  both  in  ancient 
and  modern  times,  of  Man.  Plato  said,  'he  was  a  two- 
legged  animal,  without  feathers  :'  and  when  he  so  af- 
firmed, he  no  doubt  plumed  himself  on  having  put  the 
subject  upon  a  right  footing  — Mr.  Burke  thought  the 
person  worthy  of  great  praise,  who  had  determined  mai 
to  be  k  a  rational  cooking  animal,'  particularly  as  thai 
definition  fully  explained  the  proverb,  '  There  is  reasoi, 
in  roasting  egg-s.'— We  do  not  deny,  that  these  at- 
tempts at  a  right  definition  are  very  ingenious  and  verj 
laudable  ,  but,  after  profound  meditation,  we  are  con- 
vinced that  something  better  may  be  done  to  settle  the 
important  point.  In  short,  we  have  made  a  discovery, 
— such  an  one  indeed  as  adds  to  the  glories  of  the  pre- 
sent very  enlightened  age,  and  such  as  cannot  fail  to  be 
transmitted  to  posterity  as  a  proof  of  the  perfection,  the 
ultima  Thule,  which  the  science  of  metci  %  ysics  hai 
reached  ;  we  have  found  out  the  only  true,  v  >  isfactory, 
and  indisputable  definition  of  man  is,  that  he  is  a  pun- 
ning animal.  Travel  where  you  may.  from  Archangel 
to  Aberdeen,  and  from  thence  to  Arabia  ;  trace  the 
progress  of  nations,  from  the  Huns  to  the  Hurons  and 
Hottentots  ;  to  say  nothing  of  the  Jews,  Greeks.  Ro- 
mans, French,  English,  &,c.  &c,  and  you  will  find  the 
people  of  all  countries  are  punsters,  and  have  beente 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  121 

from  the  earliest  times.  It  is  in  contemplation  to  pub- 
lish a  most  elaborate  work,  in  as  many  volumes  as  some 
recent  novels,  in  order  to  lay  all  our  proofs,  or  rather 
to  exhibit  all  the  steps  of  the  demonstration  of  this  im- 
portant truth  before  the  world.  This  work  will  be 
printed  upon  wire- wove  hot- pressed  paper,  in  a  new 
type  cast  on  purpose,  and  will  no  doubt  be  subscribed 
for  by  all  the  crowned  heads  in  Europe,  as  well  as  by 
the  emperor  of  Hayti.  As,  however,  we  are  aware  of 
the  lively  interest  which  this  notification  is  calculated 
to  excite  in  the  public  mind  ;  while  the  makers  are 
busily  at  work  manufacturing  the  paper,  and  the  foun- 
ders are  casting  the  types,  we  shall  endeavour  to  allay 
the  ardent  thirst  of  general  curiosity,  by  presenting  the 
public  with  the  following  sketch  of  our  performance. 

Puns  are  of  two  kinds.  I.  The  Echo  pun,  when  one 
word  is  so  similar  in  sound  to  another,  as  to  be  nearly 
a  repetition  of  it.  II.  The  pun  Equivocal,  when  a 
word  is  taken  in  two  different  senses. 

Punning  has  the  authority  of  high  antiquity  to  plead 
in  its  favour.  The  use  of  the  rhetorical  figure  called 
pamnomn sia  is  not  uncommon  in  the  Hebrew  Scrip- 
tures, and  many  instances  of  puns  are  to  be  found  in 
the  Greek  and  Latin  Classics.  Even  old  Homer,  very 
serious  as  he  generally  was,  amused  himself  with  this 
kind  of  plaything.  He  describes  Ulysses,  '  the  man 
for  wisdom's  various  arts  renowned,'  saving  himself 
from  being  eaten  alive,  by  the  fabrication  of  a  very 
seasonable  equivoque.  Ulysses  tells  Polypheme  that 
his  name  is  Noman  (Own?,)  and  the  unsuspecting  giant 
gives  him  credit  for  speaking  the  truth.  When  the  rest 
of  the  clan  of  Cyclops  come  running  to  the  assistance 
of  their  out-witted  brother,  they  inquire  who  had  put 
out  his  eye.     He  says, — 

*  Friends,  Noman  kills  me,  Noman  in  the  hour 
Of  sleep  oppresses  me  with  fraudful  power.' 


!  2  2  r  low  efts  df  wit. 

The  answer, — 

*  Ii  no  man  hurt  thee,  but  the  hand  divine 
Inflicts  disease,  it  (it?  thee  to  resign  ; 
To  .We,  and  to  thj  father  Neptune  pray, 
Tne  brethren  cri'  d,  and  instant  stioue  away. 

Odyy-s.  ix. 

341.  We  have  before   noticed  the   facetiousness  ol 
Cicero:    it  appears  that  he   was  fond  of  indulging  in 
this  species  of  it,   as  may  be  seen  in  the  two  10!  lowing 
instances  selected   from  many  others.     TdBCOvetouj 
farmer,  who  ploughed  up  the  ground  where  hi* 
was  buried,   he 'said,  '  Hoc  est  vere  sepvlchrum  j 
colere.'     And  on  Verro,  who  bought  a  v«  rv  gm;   i  fit  d, 
and  called  it  a  farm,  he  wrote  the  following  epigram  : — 
1  Fundum  Vnrro  vocut.  qutun  possum  mittere  funda, 
Ni  tamen  exciderit,  qua  cdvafuiuiti  paid.'1 

842.  When  Pope  Gregory  the  Great,  as  Venerable 
Bede  relates,  saw  some  beautiful  boys,  who  were  to  be 
sold  for  slaves  in  a  market  in  Kome,  he  asked  what 
country  they  came  from  ?  He  was  told  they  were  Audi, 
'  They  are  rightly  so  called,1  said  he,  *  for  they  have 
the  faces  of  Anzeli,  and  are  fit  to  share  the  inheritance 
of  angels  in  heaven  :'  So  he  sent  St.  Augustin  to  Bri- 
tain, to  convert  the  inhabitants-.  He  was  told  th;;  the 
name  of  the  king  of  Britain  was  Alia  :  '  Then/  said  he 
4  AUe\ujdL  ought  to  be  sung  in  that  country  to  the  praise 
of  the  Creator.'  When  he  was  told  these  beautiful 
boys  were  born  in  a  part  of  the  island  called  Deira  : 
4  Then,'  said  he,  '  Dp  Ira  Dei  sunt  liberandi.' 

843.  The  custom  of  punning  continued  to  prevail  in 
the  dark  sges,  and  continued  also  to  be  applied  to  the 
most  serious,  or  rather  grave  subjects.  Witness  the' 
epitaph  written  upon  Fair  Kosamund,  in  the  twelfth 
century  : — 

'  Hie  jar.ft  in  Iambi  Rosa  J\f>rndi,  non  Rnsamunda, 
JV,m  redolet,  std  olet,  quoc  redohre  soltt.'' 

Shakspeare  abounds  in  puns,  as  Plautus   did  before. 


FLOWERS    OF    WIT.  123 

him.  Our  great  dramatist  was  indeed  possessed  by  the 
most  violent  mania  for  this  kind  of  wit :  he  indulged  it 
upon  all  occasions,  serious  as  well  as  comic  ;  and  his 
kings  and  knights,  courtiers  and  clowns,  are  like  horses 
ia  a  team,  for  all  wear  bells  of  the  same  metal,  and 
make  the  same  jingle.  Milton  is  faulty  in  this  respect, 
for  he  so  far  forgets  the  dignity  of  epic  poetry,— the 
*  height  of  his  great  argument,'  as  to  make  the  fallen 
angels  express  their  triumphant  merriment  in  a  string 
of  puns. 

The  reign  of  James  I.  was  the  golden  age  of  pun- 
ning ;  and  the  rage  prevailed  so  much,  during  his  and 
the  succeeding  reigns,  in  the  universities  of  Oxford  and 
Cambridge,  that  it  seems  rather  extraordinary  they  did 
not  confer  degrees,  or  give  prizes,  to  the  best  punsters. 
Some  of  the  last  keen  word-hunters  that  were  bred  in 
the  old  school  in  Oxford,  were  Dr.  Leigh,  who  was  for 
more  than  half  a  century  master  of  Baliol  college,  Dr. 
Barton,  warden  of  Merton,  Thomas  Warton,  of  Trini- 
ty, and  professor  White.  Many  of  their  puns,  good, 
bad,  and  indifferent,  are  still  remembered  by  the  senior 
members  of  the  university  ;  but  most  of  them  have 
fallen  into  oblivion,  with  the  occasions  that  produced 
them. 

OXFORD  PUNSTERS. 

Anthony  Wood,  the  famous  Oxford  antiquary, 
compiled  a  collection  of  Bon  Mots,  called  Modius  Sa- 
Hum.  The  following  is  a  specimen  of  their  attic  or  an- 
tiquarian salt. 

844.  'There  was  a  large  pear  fit  for  baking  which 
was  called  a  warden  pear.  On  the  subject  of  warden 
pears,  one  Clerk,  of  Magdalen  college,  gave  the  fol- 
lowing  characters  of  the  four  wardens   of  his   time 

tnu?: Dr.  Smith,  one  of  the  first  wardens  of  Wadham, 

and  young,  he  styled  the  green  warden  ;— Dr.  Lake, 
warden  of  New  college,  ready  to  fall  off  to  the  bishop- 
rick  of  Bath  and  Wells,  the  ripe  warden  ;— Sir  Henry 
Saville,  warden  of  Merton,  gouty  in  body,  the  rot- 
23* 


124  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

ten  warden  ; — and  Dr.  Mocket,  warden  of  All-Souls, 
whose  book  on  the  liturgy  of  the  church  of  England 
was  burnt,  the  roasted  warden.' 

From  a  passage  in  'Cupid's  Revenge,'  by  Beaumonl 
and  Fletcher,  we  may  conclude  that  these  pears  were 
usually  roasted  : 

'I  would  have  him  roasted  like  a  warden. 
In  brown  paper.' 

DR.  LEIGH. 

845.  A  roguish  tenant  of  Baliol  college  slily  felled 
the  trees  upon  his  farm,  and  put  the  money  in  his 
pocket.  Soon  after  he  called  upon  Dr.  Leigh  to  pay 
his  rent,  and  the  doctor  inquired  into  the  state  of  the 
trees.  'Atas  !  sir,' said  the  tenant,  'a  great .  misfor- 
tune has  happened  to  them  ;  a  high  wind  has  blown 
them  all  down.'  'No,  no,'  said  the  doctor,  who  knew 
his  man,  you  mistake  ;  it  must  have  been  not  a  high 
wind,  but  a  cutting  wind  to  do  so  much  execution.' 

DR.  BARTON. 

84G.  At  the  time  when  the  bridge  was  building 
over  the  Chenvell  near  Magdalen  college,  disputes 
often  ran  high  between  the  university  and  the  city  of 
Oxford.  Dr.  Barton,  warden  of  Merton  college,  was 
consulted  whether  it  would  not  be  proper  to  put  up 
the  armsof  the  university  on  one  side  of  the  bridge, 
and  those  of  the  city  opposite  to  them,  '1  am,'  said 
he  to  those  who  consulted  him,  'no  friend  to  the  plan, 
as  you  know  it  is  always  unpleasant  to  see  the  uni- 
versity and  the  city  up  in  arms  against  each  other.'' 


847.   Dr.  Barton   was  in    company  with  Dr.  Nash, 
just  as  he  was  going  to  publish    his   work   on   the  an 
tiquities  of  Worcestershire.     *I   fear,'   said    Dr.  Bar 
ton,  -  there  will  be  a  great  many  inaccuracies  in  you 
books,    when  they  come   out.'    'How  are  errors  to  ' 


5 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  125 

ivoided.?'  said  Dr.  Nash.  'Very  easily,'  said  Dr.  Bar- 
ton ;  'Are  you  not  a  justice  of  peace  V  'I  am,'  said 
Dr.  Nash.  'Why  then,'  replied  the  old  warden,  'you 
have  nothing  to  do,  but  to  send  your  books  to  the  house 
of  correction.'' 

848.  Dr.  Barton  once  invited  Crowe,  of  New  college, 
to  dine  with  him.  Crowe  asked,  who  were  coming. 
You  see/  said  the  warden,  'here  is  Rook,  and  one  Bird 
more,  and  then  we  will  go  to  dinner.' — Rook  and  Bird- 
more  were  the  names  of  two  of  the  fellows  of  Merton. 

MR.  COOKE  THE  PROCTOR. 

849.  As  the  contest  for  the  Cinical  professorship  was 
J  £oing  on  between  Dr.  Wall  and  Dr.  Vivian,  in  the  Con- 
vocation-house in  Oxford,  Dr.  Sibthorp,  well  known  for 
lis  parsimony,  came  to  tender  his  vote.  It  was  queri- 
ed, upon  the  ground  that  his  name  did  not  appear  upon 
he  books  of  any  college  or  hall.  But  it  was  argued,  in 
lupport  of  his  vote,  that  it  was  valid,  as  the  doctor 
:ame  under  the  description  of  the  statute,  as  Doctor 
ommorans  qui  alit  familiam.  Now  it  happened  that 
\\r.  Cooke  of  New  college,  to  whom  the  case  was  re- 
erred,  was  both  a  wag  and  a  punster.  So  alluding  to 
he  doctor's  well-known  oeconomy,  particularly  in  the 
rticle  of  malt  liquor — 'Qui  alit,  Ale  it!'  said  the  proc- 
or,  'why  he  does  not  even  small  beer  it/ 

This  joke  was  repealed  through  the  Convocation- 
louse ;  and  as  it  was  a  complete  illustration  of  the  ri- 
iiculum  crcWof  Horace,  by  exciting  a  general  laugh,  it 
)ut  all  parties  in  good  humour. 

The  following  specimens,  if  not  thought  the  best  that 
;an  be  given,  at  least  show  the  prevalence  of  the  prac- 
ice  of  punning  in  various  countries,  and  its  extent 
tmong  various  classes  in  society. 

In  former  times,  punning  was  applied  to  all  subjects, 
erious  as  well  as  jocose.     In  modern  times,  the  great 


126  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

object  of  the  punster  is  to  raise  a  laugh.  This  effect 
generally  produced  ;  although  when  he  makes  an  u 
lucky  attempt,  the  laugh  is  directed  against  himse 
Thus  an  awkward  sportsman  is  struck  by  the  recoil 
his  own  gun. 

A  LATIN  PUN. 

850.  One  of  the  best  and  most  extensive  that  pe 
haps  ever  was  made,  was  the  application  of  a  passa£ 
in  Virgil's  Eclogues,  to  a  Collection  of  Puns  :  The  a< 
dress  to  the  reader  was,  Punica  mala  leges. 

A  SPANISH  PUN. 

851.  A  beautiful  Spanish  girl  was  playing 
a  guitar  to  a  gentleman  some  of  her  national  airs  ar 
songs,  but  did  not  accompany  them  with  her  voice.  C 
his  asking  her  to  sing,  she  looked  archly  at  him,  ar/ 
replied,  Yo  no  puedo  cantar,  pern  pvedo  incanta  , 
Had  she  been  playing  sacred  music,  the  pun  migl 
have  been  conveyed  in  an  English  translation.  '1  car 
not  chant,  but  1  can  enchant.' 

FRENCH  PUNS. 

852.  Deux  predicateurs  prechoient  dans  la  mem 
eglise,  dont  1'un  avoit  une  voix  tres  forte.     Quel  qu'u 
dit  que  la  difference  entre  le  predicateur  du  matin,  c 
celui  du  soir  etoit,  que  le  premier  prechoit/or*  bien, 
le  second  bienfort. 

853.  L'opera  Fatme,  etoit  d'abord  entitule  Le  Lar 
gage  de  Fleurs.  On  demandoit,  si  Ton  trouveroit  beat 
coup  de  pensees  dans  le  Langage  de  Fleurs.  'Je  pui 
repondre,'  dit  gaiement  1'auteur,  'qu'au  moins  on  n'' 
trouvera  point  de  soucisS 

854.  Le  Pere  Poree",  qui  professoit  avec  tant^d'ecla 
h  rhetorique,  rencontra  un  jour  un  magistrat    qu'i 


FLOWERS  OF   WIT.  127 

iroit  loue  dans  une  de  ses  harangues.  Le  celebre  Je- 
uite  s'inclina  pourle  saluer,  ceiui  ci  ne  lui  rendit  point 
esaiut.  'Mon  frere,'  dit  le  Pere  Poree"  au  religieux 
fui  J'accompagnoit :  *Voila  un  magistrat  bien  droit/ 

855.  Lord  Anson  fell  in  with  a  French  squadron, 
:ommanded  by  Jonquiere,  a  skilful  and  brave  admiral. 
Several  of  his  ships  were  taken, as  well  as  Jonquiere  him- 
;ell.  Among  the  prizes  were  two  iine-of- battle  ships,  P 
nvincibJe,and  la  Gloire.  Jonquiere  when  introduced  to 
he  victor  paid  him  a  compliment,  which  showed  equal 
ivacity  and  good  humour.  *  Vou  have,'  said  he  to 
oid  Anson,  'done  wonders  ;  for  you  have  conquered 
he  Invincible,  and  you  are  followed  by  Glory/ 

856.  In  the  year  1791,  at  the  time  when  the  promot- 
rs  of  the  French  revolution  were  by  many  made  the 
ubjects  of  ridicule,  the  following  punning  epitaph 
pon  banterre  the  brewer,  who  had  commenced  sol- 
ier,  was  in  every  one's  mouth  in  Paris, and  was  highly 
Jlished  as  a  bon  mot  of  the  first  class  : — 

'Cy  git  Sunterre, 
Quiri'  a  pas  de  Mars  que  sa  bonne  biere.' 

HORSES'  TAILS. 

857.  L\  the  rebellion  in  1745,  some  disaffected  rogues 
ut  off  the  tails  of  the  horses  belonging  to  a  regiment 
liat  was  stationed  in  the  King's  Mews.  When  the 
efalcation  was  discovered,  the  colonel  in  great  vex- 
tion  exclaimed,  'What  must  we  do  ?  'Do  !'  said  a 
jteg,  'why  you  must  sell  the  horses,  by  wholesale.'' 
v\  hy  so  ?  said  the  colonel.  'Because,'  said  he,  'it  is 
ery  plain  you  cannot  re-tail  them.'' 

The  delight  of  a  punster  reaches  its  acme,  when  he 
an  make  two  puns  upon  the  same  word.  Thus  the 
wilful  sportsman  kills  a  bird  with  each  of  the  barrels  of 

ii  gun. 

858.  Old  Dennis,  the  author  of  several  plays,  pass- 


128  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

ing  by  a  brandy-shop,  the  master  came  out,  and  desire< 
the  favour  of  him  to  drink  a  dram.  'For  what  reason  1 
said  Dennis.  'Because,'  said  the  master,  'you  are  i| 
dramatic  poet.'  When  Dennis  had  complied  with  th« 
invitation,  and  was  going  to  walk  away,  the  master  ask 
ed  him  to  pay  for  it.  Dennis  surprised  said,  'Did  yoi 
Dot  ask  me  to  drink  a  dram,  because  I  was  a  dra7nd.l1 
poet  V  'Yes,  sir,'  replied  the  master,  'but  I  would  nc 
have  asked  you,  had  I  thought  you  a  drann  at  ta'cfcpoet. 

859.  Mr.  Congreve  going  up  the  Thames  in  a  boal 
the  waterman  lo!d  him,  as  they  passed  by  Peterborough 
house  at  Mill-bank,  that  the  house  had  sunk  a  story 
Mr.  Congreve  thinking  this  very  extraordinary, 'Friend, 
said  he,  'I  rather  believe  it  is  a  story  raised? 

A  WATER    DRINKER. 

860.  A  relative  of  Mrs.  Malaprop,  well  knewn  fo 
marring  the  words  of  her  native  language,  complained 
that  in  consequence  of  a  disorder  in  her  stomach,  whicl 
she  called  a  cataplasm  (a  spasm),  her  physician  ha< 
put  her  into  a  regiment  (a  regimen),  and  ordered  her  tt 
drink  water.  'Surely  madam,'  said  a  wag,  'yourregi 
ment  is«tbe  Cold  Stream? 

THE  IRISH  BAR. 

861.  Counsellor  Colbach,  who  was  well  known 
the  Irish  bar  for  his  great  professional  knowledge  a 
acuteness,  was  remarkable  for  the  shabbiness  of 
dress.  One  day,  as  he  was  coming  into  the  co 
with  his  hands  filled  with  briefs,  he  met  a  rival  b 
rister.  This  gentleman,  wishing  to  be  severe  u 
the  counsellor,  said,  'What,  are  you  here  with  y 
old  clothes  !'  'No,'  said  the  counsellor,  triumphant^ 
showing  him  his  papers,  'not  with my  old  clothes,  b(H 
with  my  new  suits? 


FLOWERS    OP    WIT.  129 

ARTIFICIAL  DIAMONDS. 

862.  A  lady  at  a  supper  given  on  a  public  occasion 
iisplayed  in  an  ostentatious  manner  a  profusion  of  artif- 
icial diamonds,  which  she  had  purchased  at  the  shop  of 
he  well-known  Dovey.  She  long  teased  a  lady  who  sat 
iext  her  with  a  great  deal  of  impertinent  conversation, 

«nd  with  obstrusive  attention  offered  to  help  her  to  the 
aintiesupon  the  table.  'Shall  1,'  said  she,  '  send  you 
puff?''  '  1  thank  you,  madam,'  said  the  other,  '  you 
iad  better  take  one  yourself,  as  you  seem  to  be  very 
fond  of paste.' 

Asa  finale  to  this  choice  collection,  we  present  the 
ourteous  reader  with  the  following  string  of  Echo  puns, 
urpassing  all  others.  It  is  taken  from  a  very  scarce 
•vork,  published  in  the  reign  of  James  I.  This  pre- 
:ious  morceau  has  been  often  printed  in  a  very  incor- 
rect and  imperfect  manner: — we  now  present  it  in  its 
original  beauty. 

863.  A  divine  willing  to  play  more  with  words, 
than  to  be  serious  in  the  expounding  of  his  text,  spake 
thus  in  some  part  of  his  sermon  :  '  This  Dyall  shewes 
we  must  die  all:  yet  notwithstanding,  all  houses  are 
turned  in'.o  ale-houses  ;  our  cares  are  turned  into  cates  ; 
our  paradise,  is  a  pair  of  dice;  our  marriage,  into  a 
merry  age;  our  matrimony,  into  a  matter  of  money  ; 
our  divines,  into  dry  vines.  It  was  not  so  in  the  days 
of  Noah,  M  no  /' 


BULLS 

OF  VARIOUS  COUNTRIES*. 

if 

s 
0 

Some  persons  were  talking  of  Edgeworth's  Essay  on*' 
'  Irish  Bulls,'  and  highly  commended  her  for  her  ingen- 
ious vindication  of  her  countrymen.     One  of  the  partj 
observed,    that     '  among    the    natives    of  almost    ah 
countries,  may  be  found  instances  of  that  ludicrous  con- 
fusion   of  thoughts,    that    precipitate    expression    ol 
incongruous  ideas,  which  constitutes   a  bull:'  and  he  (if 
added,  that'  Paddy  the  Irishman  has  a  number  of  blun-m 
ders  attributed  to  him,  of  which  he  is  in  fact  not  thee 
breeder  ;  at  the  same  time,  he  must  allow  he  has  no  |i 
small  stock  of  his  own  to  answer  for.' 

GREEK  BULLS. 

Start  not  at  this  title,  O  ye  ceaseless  investigators 
of  the   profundities  of  Aristotle;  or  ye  infallible   ex- 1 

founders  of  the  metrical  difficulties  of  iEschylus  and 
indar  ;  or  ye  perspicuous  solvers  of  the  prophetical 
aenigmas  of  Lycophron  ; — that  you  may  be  satisfied  | 
such  creatures  as  Greek  bulls  are  not  the  offspring  of 
our  invention  ;  but  that  they  actually  do  exist,  know, 
we  discovered  the  following  fine  specimens  in  a  ivorl 
called  Ao-rs/i  attributed  to  Hierocles,  an  eminent  Pla- 
tonic philosopher,  who,  you  may  recollect,  wrote  a  com- 
mentary on  the  Golden  Verses  of  Pythagoras.  This 
same  person  is  celebrated  by  Photius,  in  his  Bibliothe- 
cd.*  for  his  splendid  services  as  ambassador  to  foreij 
states  from  the  Roman  government  :  and  likewise 


s 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  131 

lis  excellent  literary  productions,  which  Photius  has 
eviewed,  If  you  are  not  content  with  the  following 
ample,  H'eroces  will  supply  you  with  more  such  neat 
attle,  a>  thorough-bred  as  were  ever  brought  from  the 
lountainsof  Wicklow,  or  the  valleys  of  Ballynahinch, 

We  are  not  to  be  informed  that  some  critics  have  ex- 
>res*ed  doubts  whether  the  Ao-tu*  be  a  genuine  work 
»f  Hierocles.  We  leave  this  point  for  some  Bentley  to 
ettle  ;  all  we  contend  for,  is,  that  the  work  is  of  Greek 
rigin.  that  it  is  very  antient,  and  written  much  in  the 
tyle  of  the  undoubted  productions  of  Hierocles  ;  had 
t  not   possessed  all  these  pretensions  to  authenticity, 

would  not  have  so  long  stood  its  ground,  and  been 
rinted  with  his  other  works. 

It  is    remarkable  that  the    'O   2%\oxtriKoc  (the  Stu- 

ent  or  Scholar)  is  introduced  merely  to  serve  as  a  butt, 

j  jst  as  the  Oxford  scholar  is  introduced  by  Joe  Mil- 

*  ;r,  in  his  *  Jest  Book,'  for  the  same  convenient  and  lu- 

icrous  purpose. 

864.  A  scholar  wanting  to  swim,  was  nearly  drowned 
the  attempt.     Upon  which  he  vowed  he  would  nev- 

f  touch  the  water  until  he  had  been  taught  to  swim. 

865.  A  scholar  wishing  to  catch  a  mouse  that  nib- 
ed  his  books,  baited  a  trap,  and  sat  by  it  to  watch. 

866.  \  scholar,  hearing  it  said  that  ravens  lived  to  be 
vo  hundred  years  old,  bought  one,  saying,  *  I  wish  to 
y  the  experiment.' 

This  story  is  told  by  Furetiere,  the  French  lexico- 
rapher,  of  a  friend  of  his.  He  has  added  a  circum- 
ance,  indeed,  which  increases  the  magnitude  of  the 
ill ;  for  he  says  that  his   friend,  when  he  purchased 

e  raven,  had  passed  his  grand  climacteric. 

867.  A  scholar  meeting  a  friend  said,  '  T  dreamed 
st  night  that  I  saw  you  and  talked  with  you.'  '  1  beg 

24 


132  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

your    pardon,5  said  the  friend,    '  for  not  listening  ti 
what  you  said.' 

868.  A  scholar  wishing  to  know  if  he  looked  hand 
some  when  he  was  asleep,  sat  before  a  looking-glas, 
with  his  eyes  shut. 

869.  One  of  twin  brothers  happened  to  die.  I 
scholar  meeting  the  survivor,  inquired  of  him:  '  Praj 
tell  me,  which  of  you  was  it  that  died,  you  or  you 
brother  V 

These  two  last  bulls  pass  current  as  genuine  Irish 

870.  A  scholar,  a  bald  headed  man,  and  a  barbe: 
travelled  together,  and  agreed  to  keep  watch  fou 
hours  at  a  time.  It  was  the  barber's  turn  to  watc! 
first  ;  he  employed  himself  in  shaving  the  head  of  tin 
sleeping  scholar  ;  and  when  his  time  of  watching  was 
expired,  waked  him.  The  scholar,  rubbing  his  head 
and  finding  it  smooth,  called  out,  '  What  a  rogue  i: 
this  barber,  for  he  has  waked  the  bald-headed  man 
when  he  ought  to  have  waked  me  !' 

Here  is.  a  charming  confusion  of  personal  identity 
This  bull  was. lately  circulated  in  a  very  genteel  com 
pany,  in  London,  as  an  excellent  modern  joke  fresl 
from  Ireland  ;  and,  as  usual,  an  Irishman  was  substi 
tuted  for  the  scholar,  and  made  the  butt  of  the  tale. 

A  SPANISH  HULL. 

871.  A  student  of  the  university  of  Salamanca,  g 
ing  out  with  a  party  to  shoot  rabbits,  was  desired  not  U 
talk  Jest  he  should  frighten  and  hinder  them  from  com 
ing  out  of  the  woods  to  feed.  As  soon  as  he  sa«! 
several  of  them  running  out, he  exclaimed, Ecce  cunicn\ 
li  multi.  When  his  companion  blamed  him,  he  ex; 
pressed  his  surprise  by  saying  ;  '  Who  could  suppose 
that  rabbits  understand  Latin  V 

872.  The  following:  Spanish  proverb  seems  o, 
the  bull  breed  :  El  mejor  de  los  dados  es  no  jiigarl<M 
'  The  best  use  of  dice,  is  not  to  play  with  them.' 


flowers  or  WIT.  133. 

FRENCH  BULLS. 

873.  A  French  lady  of  quality,  seeing  the  funeral 
)rocession  of  her  husband,  exclaimed,  '  Ah  !  how  hap- 
py would  my  poor  husband  be  if  he  could  see  this  sight, 
is  he  was  so  remarkably  fond  of  such  ceremonies.' 

874.  A  person  asked  a  French  boy,  Who  was  the 
Ider,  he  or  his  brother.     '  I  am  the  elder  of  the  two 

low,'  said  the  boy  ;  '  but    if  my  brother  should  live 
mother  year,  we  shall  be  both  of  an  age.' 

875.  The  executive  council  of  France  exhorted  his 
loliness  the  pope,  in  1792,  to  preserve  his  spiritual 
|md  temporal  dominion  by  renouncing  his  authority. 

ENGLISH  BULLS. 

876.  An  Irishman  very  justly  observed,  that  the. 
English  make  bulls  in  writing,  when  they  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  time  to  deliberate,  as  well  as  in  conver- 
sation, when  they  are  more  exposed  to  the  errors  of 
haste.  Thus  it  is  no  very  rare  thing  to  hear  persons 
talk  of  ill-healthy  bad  success,  acquit  ted  felons,  much  too 
little,  vastly  little,  mmistrously  small,   a  stone  hedge,  a 

lass  ink-horn,  and  a  man-midwife. 

Theobald  says,  in  his  '  Double  False-hood  :' — 

1  None  but  himself  can  be  his  parrallel.' 

This  is  an  ancient  bull,  for  it  occurs  in  an  inscription 
to  an  old  print  of  Colonel  Giles  Strangeways,  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  II. 

*  None  but  himself,  himself  can  parrallel.' 

877.  In  an  English  newspaper  was  the  following  pas- 
sage : — '  A  number  of  deaths  are  unavoidably  postpon- 
ed.' 


134  FLOWERS    OF    WIT. 

878.  At  the  time  Drury-Lane  Theatre  wa9  repairing 
the  following  notice  was  published  :— *  Drury-Law 
opens  at  the  Opera-House  on  the  10th  of  next  month. 

879.  Over  a  door  on  the  road  from  Brighton  t. 
Lewes  is  the  following  notice  : — 'Fresh  sea-water  soli 
here.' 

880.  A  very  capital  practical  bull  is  said  to  hav< 
been  bred  in  the  time  of  the  first  American  war.  On< 
ship  was  sent  to  America  loaded  with  cannon,  and  a  se 
cond  with  powder,  and  a  third  with  ball.  The  conse 
que.ice  was,  that  if  one  was  taken,  the  other  two  wer» 
Jikeiy  to  be  of  little  or  no  comparative  use,  to  wha 
they  might  have  been,  if  their  cargoes  had  been  mix 
ed. 

IRISH  BULLS. 

Under  this  head,  we  confess  our  conviction  that  i 
is  not  very  easy  to  exhibit  Irish  bulls  so  original  tha 
they  cannot  be  matched  both  for  size  and  spirit  by  oth 
ers  of  a  foreign  breed. 

881.  Take  from  an  Irish  newspaper  the  following 
adv  rtisement  of  lands  to  be  let  to  an  improving  tenant 

*  A  few  miles  from  Cork,  in  a  most  sporting  country 
bounded  by  an  uncommon  tine  turf  bog,  on  the  verg<jl 
of  which  there  are  a  number  of  fine  lime-kilns,  when 
that  manure  may  be  had  on  very  moderate  terms,  tru! 
di->t  mce  for  carriage  not  being  many  hundred  yards 
The  whole  lands  being  now  in  great  heart  and  comi 
pletely  laid  dawn,  entirely  surrounded  and  divided  b) 
impenetrable  furze  ditches,  made  of  quarried  stone  lain 
edgeways  ' 

882.  This  bull  certainly  looks  very  finely,  but  w< 
have  met  with  one  of  English  breed,  who  trots  well  bj 
h-  si  ie.  Or.  Grey,  In  his  note-  on  Hud i bras,  recorJ 
the  deposition  of  a  lawyer,  who  iu  an  action  of  batterj 


FLOWERS  OF  WIT.  135 

Id  the  judge,  that  the  defendant  beat  his  client  with  a 
ertain  wooden  instrument  called  an  iron  pestle.* 

883.  An  Irishman  was  asked  how  his  mother  did.-^- 
IVIy  jewel,'  said  he,  '  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for 
our  inquiries,  but  I  never  had  a  mother.'  *  How  is 
iat  V  said  his  friend.  '  Why,  don't  you  know,'  said 
addy,  '  that  I  am  the  son  of  my  aunt  ?' 

884.  An  Irishman  was  travelling  in  a  chaise  with  a 
entleman,  who  expressed  great  concern,  lest  some  chi- 

e  a  he  had  in  a  box  with  bim  should  be  broken.  As  the 
arriage  was  rattling  over  the  rough  pavement  of  Brent- 
>rd,  the  Irishman  exclaimed,  'You  have  indeed  reason 

| )  fear  for  your  china,  for  they  would  now  be  dashed  to 
ieces,  if  they  were  made  of  iron.' 

BULL  AFTER  BULL: 

885.  In  Faulkner's  *  Freeman's  Journal,'  published 
4n  Dublin,  the  editor,  during  the  government  of  the 
"  luke  of  Dorset,  removed  an  error  of  the  press  in  the 

ol lowing  correct  manner. — Erratum  :  In  our  last  Jour- 
al,  for  'Aer  grace  the  duke  of  Dorset,'  read  'his  grace 
°|he  duchess. ,' 

886.  An  Irishman  observing  the  increase  of  houses  in 
{London,  said,  very  forcibly,  '  London  is  gone  out  of 
n  own.  and  there  will  be  no  end  of  the  streets,  but  the 
a  .and's  End.' 


4  Thus,  gentle  reader  (to  use  the  words  of  an  old 
5ome<inn,)  we  have  conducted  thee  through  a  motley 
n  sq-jyrade,  not  given  by  broad- laughing  Mornus,  but 
)y  the  sw^etiy-smiling  Euphrosyne,  and  therein  thou 
last  viewed  personages  both  of  high  aud  low  condition  ; 

*  Edgeworth,  p.  39. 


136  FLOWERS  OF  WIT. 

to  wit,  sovereigns  and  serving-men, courtiers  and  do 
gentlewomen  and  gypsies  ;  and  if  perchance  thou  h 
not  found  delectation  <n  beholding  their  dainty  dresse 
and  hearing  their  merry   conceits,  go  hie  thee  to  a 
hermitage  and  from  thence  view  the  checkered  gam 
ture  of  magpies,  and  hearken  to  the  ominous  outcry 
owlets  :  but  if  thou  hast  relished  our  peerless  pasti 
and  it  has  solaced  thy  sinking  spirits,  fail  not  hearti 
to  commend  us,  the  masters,  of  the  revels,  who  ha 
presented  such  innocent  images  and  pleasant  pictured 
to  exhilarate  thy  fancy,  and  furnished  thee  with  sue 
choice  and  cheap  entertainment!' 

Farewell. 


